What Happened at the Forensics Conference
by KatherineAliceBeckettCullen
Summary: What would have happened to Sara if SWAT had gotten there just a few seconds later? Inspired by the events of episode 1505, "Girls Gone Wilder". Mostly AU after that. Please read and review!
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: This is my first attempt at a CSI fanfiction. Until now, I've only written Castle related stories, but this week's episode caught my interest and I just had to write. For now, the story will be focusing on the events that happened in the hotel during episode 1505 "Girls Gone Wilder", which means we will only see things from Sara and Finn's POV. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not and probably will not own anything in the CSI universe. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

Chapter 1

Sara wasn't thrilled to be attending this particular presentation. Dr. Jane Snyder was probably the last person she wanted to listen to right now. Especially after the way she'd acted in the lobby. Her self-promotional attitude and general me-ness had grated Sara's patience to say the least. And then there was the way Dr. Jane had brought up the time she'd skewered Sara's trainee on his first trip to the witness stand. Sara wasn't entirely sure if she should forgive Morgan for signing them up for this.

Morgan was trying to be encouraging as they sat down. "Come on."

Sara sat down with Morgan on her right. A dark-haired woman grabbed the seatback of the chair next to Morgan. "Hey Morgan, is anyone sitting here?"

Morgan smiled and shook her head. "It's all yours."

Sara kept her attention on her phone until the house lights dimmed. Dramatic music started to play and strobe lights on the stage started to flicker. Men in jeans and white lab coats walked toward the stage in a line, followed by Dr. Snyder and a few more men. The audience began to applaud the way you might when a theater performance began. The men in lab coats arranged themselves on the stage, hands behind their backs with Dr. Snyder at center stage.

Sara was credulous. "Strobe lights? Really?"

Morgan shrugged with her hands, excitement on her face. "I told you, she puts on a good show."

Sara looked at Morgan briefly before turning her attention to the stage where Dr. Snyder was beginning her presentation. "I am Dr. Jane Snyder."

The audience applauded again, a few people calling out "Yeah!" like they were at a sporting event. Dr. Snyder laughed and then continued. "Thank you! I am so excited to be here to teach you how to defend your evidence."

Sara sighed, resigning herself to sit through this presentation no matter how much she wanted to be somewhere else. "First and foremost, the court room is a stage. And it is your job to perform!"

Dr. Snyder threw her hands in the air as different music came on and the men on the stage with her broke into stripper dances. They popped open their lab coats or removed them entirely to reveal six-pack abs and chiseled chests. Women in the audience shrieked in delight at the show.

Sara couldn't believe her eyes. "Oh. My. God."

Next to Sara, Morgan laughed. Several people in the audience now had their phones out to record the performance. Dr. Snyder was dancing with the men, though not nearly as provocatively.

The sound of a gunshot rang out and one of the male dancers jerked as he was struck with the fired bullet. Two more shots quickly followed and at least one hit the same dancer. Sara's head whipped from facing the stage toward the open side door to see a man with a stocky build and long hair standing in the doorway with an assault rifle in his hands. Bullets continued to pour into the room in bursts of one or two shots. Sara grabbed Morgan's arm and the two of them hit the floor like many others. People screamed in panic, but the shots didn't let up. Now the gunman was starting to shoot into the rest of the room. Chaos reigned as people tried to get out of the line of fire. Glass broke and cascaded to the floor as a vase, display, and glassware around the room were hit with bullets. Morgan's friend tried to make a run for it.

"Vicki, no!" Morgan's head popped up briefly until the sound of another gunshot forced her to duck again. Vicki was hit and collapsed. Morgan moved to crawl forward, but Sara's hand on her back stopped her. "Vicki!"

Sara's head was rabbiting up and down, trying to capture as many details as she could to aid in the investigation later without getting shot in the process. The gunman had long blonde hair and was carrying what looked and sounded like an AR-15. He was by the side door and had come in just a couple minutes after the presentation had started, meaning he entered and started shooting at 4:17pm. Along the back wall, another attendee tried to make a dash for the back door and was shot down too.

Just after the man fell, the gunman stopped firing and ran for the back door. Sara's ears were ringing. She looked around the conference room. People were crouched behind chairs or sprawled on the floor either injured or trying to play dead. Most importantly, the gunman was nowhere in sight.

"It's all right." Sara started to stand and some people started to move again. "It's over." Sara could see that they were no longer in immediate danger. "It's clear! It's clear."

One attendee stood and headed for the door. "I'll go get some help."

As he left, and despite the attendees being trained in some level of law enforcement, most of the rest of the audience rushed for the doors, eager to get away from what was now a crime scene. Dr. Snyder extracted herself from under the body of the dead dancer with a gasp of horror, her previously clean outfit now splattered and stained with his blood. Morgan finally stood, shock and fear clearly written across her face. She spotted her friend and a sob crossed her lips. She rushed to Vicki's side, desperate to help her fallen friend.

"Vicki! Hey. Just hang on, okay?"

Sara raised her phone to her ear to call it in. "This is CSI Sidle. There's been a mass shooting at the Mediterranean Hotel Forensics Conference. Roll paramedics and PD. Code three!"

Morgan had started CPR to try and revive her friend. She was sobbing; her body knew Vicki was gone, but her mind refusing to accept it. "Come on! Come on! Come on!"

Sara could sense what Morgan couldn't accept and moved to intervene. "Morgan…"

Morgan checked for breathing again. "Come on. Come on."

"Morgan." Sara saw the empty look in Vicki's eyes and knew it was far too late.

"Please, come on."

Sara's voice was gentle. "She's gone."

Morgan continued chest compressions. "You're good. You're good." She checked for breathing again.

"Morgan…"

Morgan sobbed again. "Come on."

Sara grabbed her colleague's shoulder gently. "Morgan, she's gone. She's gone." Morgan finally stopped trying to save Vicki, defeat and pain in her eyes. "Morgan! Look at me!" Sara was starting to get concerned for Morgan's wellbeing when she wasn't responding. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

Morgan's voice was eerily calm when she responded, brushing her hair out of her face with the back of a bloodied hand. "No." She looked down at her hands, saw the blood and started to panic as she sobbed. Anger suddenly surged through the blonde's features. "What the hell just happened?"

Sara looked around the room again and the horror of what she saw was reflected in her eyes as she responded without words. Three people were dead, more injured, most of the others still present were either despondent or helping the injured. None of this was something anyone expected would happen when they came to the conference today.

Morgan was finally snapping into work mode. "How many shooters were there?"

Sara responded in kind. "Just one. An assault rifle. It looked like an AR-15."

Morgan was surprised. "So you saw him?"

Sara choked on her words as emotions started to fight for control of her reactions. "He went out the back door. I'm gonna call Finn." Sara pulled out her phone again and dialed the number. It just rang and rang, eventually dumping to voicemail. Sara left a quick warning to be on the lookout and to be careful. With that done, Sara called Russell.

* * *

**Meanwhile...**

Finn loved the way she could flirt with Mark and know that nothing was taken very seriously. After two marriages that had ended in divorce, she had started to see serious relationships as pointless and painful endeavors that were best left to others to enjoy. Right now she was boarding an elevator with Mark to head up to one of their rooms while discussing their favorite football teams.

Being from Boston meant that Mark was a Patriot fan. "Admit it, Russell Wilson is no Tom Brady."

"You're just saying that because he's married to a supermodel."

"No, I'm saying that because he has three Super Bowl rings. And he's married to a supermodel."

Finn moved in like she was going to kiss him, but shot a playful zinger at Mark instead. "Yeah, well, at least my team doesn't cheat."

Mark looked a little hurt. "Ouch. You really know how to hurt a guy."

Finn smirked a little and leaned in some more. "Aww, poor baby." They were about to kiss when her phone started to buzz.

Finn looked down at it, saw that Sara was the caller and decided to ignore the call. She knew they were at a forensics conference and she was supposed to be paying attention, but a bed was calling their names and she wasn't about to pass up the chance to have hot, casual sex with Mark.

"No?" Mark was checking if they were still "in the mood" or if the phone was going to interrupt.

She shook her head. "No." They chuckled as they turned their attention back to each other and let the phone go to voicemail. They kissed until the elevator car stopped at a floor and hurriedly broke apart to ensure any incoming passengers wouldn't be embarrassed by their PDA.

The doors opened and a man walking passed the elevator paused and looked at them. Finn and Mark looked back; Finn noticed he had long blonde hair and was carrying a large gun. After a moment of everyone looking at each other, the man raised his gun and pointed it at them. Finn was reaching into her purse for her gun on instinct even though it wasn't there. Mark yelled, "No!" and threw himself in between Finn and the gunman while trying to pull her to the floor and out of the way. The man started firing, his bullets missing them, but hitting the elevator walls and bouncing off to become deadly and unpredictable projectiles. Thankfully, the elevator doors closed before the shooter could get off very many shots.

Finn and Mark ended up kneeling on the floor of the elevator embracing each other. They pulled apart moments later to look at the other. Finn was breathing heavily from fear. Mark looked down and saw blood on his shirt. Finn saw it too and then felt a wet spot on the front of her blouse; she quickly checked it to find she was unharmed, but there was blood on her blouse. She looked at Mark, her eyes zeroing in on the wound to his abdomen again and realizing that was the source.

Mark was concerned about the blood on her torso. "Are you…" He was crawling back to lean against a wall, pain coloring his voice.

"Yeah, I'm okay. That doesn't look good." Now that he knew she was fine, the full force of his injury came to the front of his mind and he groaned, eyes squeezed shut against the sudden rush of pain. Finn hurried to grab the scarf from her purse and passed it to him. "Here, hold this really tight."

His hand covered hers over the wadded scarf and pressed it to his wound, still groaning from the pain. Finn went back to her purse and retrieved her phone to call for help. The elevator groaned and the lights flickered before plunging them into darkness.

Finn was distraught that in the midst of an already bad situation, one more thing had gone wrong. "Oh, no!" They were trapped.

* * *

The paramedics, SWAT officers, and PD had finally shown up. First SWAT secured the scene and then the paramedics moved in to assist the wounded. The coroners came in as well to collect the dead. Morgan had been called back to the lab by Russell, but Sara decided to stay behind and help collect any evidence that might help them identify the shooter. She'd given her statement to Ecklie over the phone and grabbed supplies from the nearby vendor's tables. The police and paramedics were swarming the room, taking statements and helping the wounded. Radio chatter filled the air as Sara clipped her crime lab I.D. to one pant pocket and then her holster and gun on her right hip.

Someone to her right was getting treated. "Let's go ahead and set her up."

The phone on her left hip started to ring. Sara pulled it out of its holster to see the caller was Russell. "Hi." She felt like a kid who'd just been caught were she didn't belong.

Russell didn't sound happy. "_SWAT leader just called me and told me you refused to evacuate. I told you to get out of there._"

Sara wasn't willing to budge. "Shooter came in through the side door. I'm hoping he left a print. I grabbed supplies from the venders…"

"_Sara, the shooter is still in the building. Look, you survived once today. Please don't push your luck_."

"SWAT has cleared the room. There's deputies posted. There's no way he's getting back in here. I can help, Russell. Please, I need to do something."

Russell finally gave in. "_All right, all right, all right. Just…be careful and get out of there as soon as you can._"

"I will." Worry clouded Sara's voice as she continued. "Listen, I just talked to Finn. Her friend's in bad shape."

"_I know that. I know, I know. Engineering is on standby. They'll get them out as soon as it's safe_."

Sara realized there was nothing she could do on that front. "Okay." She ended the call and got to work processing the scene, starting with that side door.

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**A/N: For my readers that follow my Castle related Shadow Fox stories, don't worry, I won't be postponing that story to focus on this one. For everyone else, please leave a comment in the box below to let me know what you thought! Thanks!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank ChangingbacktoBellamort500, phnxgrl, Dee, was spratlurid quimby, RosePetel7, Olivia Joanne Rodrigues, Luvfanatic ****and Love ****for their reviews. Loving all the reviews; it's a great way to start off a new story. Luvfanatic: you might want to watch the episode before you get much farther in this, though it's not necessary to follow along. I just don't want to spoil anything for you. Love: I'm going to have to confess ignorance about what a snickers story is. Maybe you can clarify that for me.**

**This chapter starts with Finn and Mark in the elevator. Enjoy!**

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Chapter 2

Emergency lights had finally come on and now the elevator was bathed in dim lights. Finn was back on the phone trying to get dispatch to free them from the elevator so Mark could get to a hospital. He was still losing blood despite the scarf and pressure, which meant something important had been hit.

The operator was not being helpful. "_I'm sorry, ma'am, there's a gunman in the building._"

"I know there is a gunman. He just shot my friend! Okay? You need to get us out of the elevator now."

"_We have to secure the area first. Stay with him._"

Finn was trying very hard not to panic. "I am doing the best that I can, but if I do not get him to the hospital soon, he is going to bleed to death."

"_They can't get in there until its clear, ma'am._"

"I understand! Will you just hurry?!" Finn ended the call and tried to give their situation the best spin for Mark. "They said they can't fix the elevator until they get the gunman. Which I'm sure is gonna be really soon."

Mark was breathing heavily, still in obvious pain, though shock appeared to be starting to set in. "Kind of romantic. Here with you. Dim lighting. This whole bleeding from the stomach thing is kind of killing the mood, isn't it?"

Finn had to agree with that assessment. "Yeah. You're losing way too much blood." Finn grabbed the bottom of her purse and turned it upside down, dumping the contents on the floor. She grabbed the tampon she always kept in there for emergencies and tore the package open with her teeth.

Mark was eyeing her like she was nuts as she worked it out of the package with one hand. "A tampon?"

"Believe it or not, these things were really used in the 19th century to plug bullet holes."

Finn tore his shirt open to reveal the hole a ricocheting bullet had punched through the skin on his side. Without warning, she stuck the tampon in the hole and deployed the absorbing pad. Mark grimaced and groaned with the sudden increase of pain.

"I'm sorry." Finn hated that she was the one causing him pain, but hopefully it would save his life.

Mark tried to be nonchalant. "So…you know sports and history."

Finn shrugged. "It's just basic first aid."

Mark shook his head. "You're doing great."

"Really wish I had gone through with my choice to go to med school right about now." Finn chuckled, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

Mark groaned as she started taping a gauze pad over the wound. "I wish you did, too. Why didn't you?"

Finn tore open another package with her teeth and continued her treatment. "I took a lecture with this guy, Alec Jeffreys, on DNA fingerprinting, and that was it. I wanted to be a criminalist."

"I slept through a lot of lectures. Had a lot of fun, though." Mark was still breathing hard.

"Wish I knew you back then."

"Oh, come on, I'm still fun. Just wait till I get out of here."

Finn smiled; that was the attitude she wanted him to have. "I'll hold you to that. It's gonna be okay."

* * *

It felt like forever had passed before Finn's phone chimed with a text. At this point Mark was laying down, blood loss making him too weak to stay sitting anymore. She picked up the phone to see that Russell had texted to let them know the suspect had been taken down and they would soon be out of the elevator.

"They got him." She was excited. "They're gonna get us out of here. Mark, can you hear me? They're coming to get you right now."

Shock had taken a toll on Mark; he was barely conscious and his eyes were having a hard time focusing on anything for long. "Celine."

Finn was confused. "What?"

"Dion. Show later."

"Oh. Yeah. I guess I'm more of a U2 kind of girl." Mark's eyes closed and Finn kept talking to try and get his attention again. "You know, uh, I saw them in Ireland."

His eyes slowly opened again. "Haven't been."

"What? To a U2 concert?"

"To Ireland."

Finn could tell he was getting weaker, so she kept talking to distract him from the pain. "Oh, it was amazing. I, uh, was there on a Eurail pass, and I was hanging out at a bar in Dublin, and all the sudden U2 walked right in and they… started…"

Mark's eye had slid closed again and his head lolled to the side as he passed out. Finn felt for a pulse at his neck but couldn't find one. "No! Oh, God! Mark?" Finn started chest compressions to try and revive him. "Come on, Come on. You can do it. Breathe, breathe. Mark, breathe!" She started to panic because he wasn't responding. "Mark?!"

The lights in the elevator flickered again before the whole thing whirred back to life and the doors opened. Just outside, paramedics were standing by to help. Finn sighed in relief at the sight of them.

"He just crashed! I didn't get a pulse."

The paramedics moved in to continue the lifesaving efforts. "All right, we'll take it from here."

"You got him?"

"Yeah." Finn stood as one of the paramedics took over CPR. "Get a line in here!"

She stood in the corner of the elevator watching, hoping her friend would pull through. "Breathe, Mark."

* * *

**Meanwhile...**

Morgan had called Sara to give her an update on the progress of the case while the brunette processed the conference room. "_Phoenix PD did a search of Lasky's house. Apparently he was obsessed with the man who murdered his wife and daughter three months ago. Uh, Luke Reaser._"

Sara examined the bullet she'd just extracted from the wall. "Luke Reaser? I heard about that case. He raped them before he killed them, right? That was Lasky's family?"

"_Yeah, that's enough to put anyone over the edge._"

"Yeah, but Reaser was caught. He's awaiting trial. Why would Lasky go on a rampage today?"

"_Because Reaser should've been put behind bars a long time ago. He raped and murdered a teenage girl back in 2012 in Texas. Set the place on fire in order to cover his tracks. The evidence wasn't strong enough to convict._"

"So then he moves to Phoenix, where he murders Lasky's family. You know, Morgan, three of the CSI's that were killed today, they were from the crime lab in Dallas. Lasky must have blamed them for putting Reaser back on the street."

"_They're not the only ones he was gunning for. Guess who testified for the defense._"

* * *

Morgan told Sara that Lasky had sent several death threats via email to Dr. Snyder over a month prior to the conference. She also said that Phoenix PD had checked their records and confirmed Dr. Snyder had never reported Lasky's threats to them. Morgan had then ended the call by giving Sara the numbers to the Dallas crime lab and the PD near Dr. Snyder's home. Sara called the PD near Dr. Snyder's home first to inquire about the death threats. According to their records, Dr. Snyder had never reported a single threat to them, let alone one within the last two months.

Sara's next call was to the Dallas crime lab so she could ask them about the Reaser case. Because the information might help the Vegas PD catch the man who had killed three of their colleagues, the Dallas crime lab was more than eager to give Sara the low down. Dr. Snyder had managed to discredit the work a DNA analyst did on the case because he had accidentally reversed two numbers on a form. A simple mistake that had gone unnoticed was the reason Reaser had remained a free man and Lasky had become a killer.

Sara stormed toward Dr. Snyder in a controlled rage. Eleven people. Eleven people had been killed today by Lasky because this woman had helped a rapist walk by exploiting a clerical error and not reporting the death threats from the gunman. And now she was standing in the lobby talking on her phone about speaking to the press.

"Of course I'll talk to the press. We need to give WNE the exclusive, though. Now? I can take care of that."

Sara was speaking before she'd reached Dr. Snyder. "He was after you."

Dr. Snyder realized she wasn't going to be avoiding this encounter by being on the phone. "I'll call you back."

Sara waited for the phone to leave Dr. Snyder's ear and then continued. "The gunman, Jeff Lasky. Ring a bell?" Dr. Snyder looked confused. "What about Luke Reaser?" Dr. Snyder face showed that she recognized the name. "You helped put that son of a bitch back on the street, and then he went on to murder Lasky's family."

Dr. Snyder's face became contemptuous. She wasn't about to take the blame, no matter how rightly it was deserved. "If I remember correctly, the prosecution didn't have that much evidence against Reaser. And what they did have was mishandled."

Sara couldn't believe the stance of innocence this woman was taking. "No. No, no, no. I talked to the lab in Dallas. A DNA analyst transposed two numbers on a piece of paper. It was a simple mistake, Jane."

Dr. Snyder maintained her composure. "And someone in the lab should have caught it."

"A guilty man went free because of a typo."

Dr. Snyder's façade was starting to crack. "It was sloppy work." She switched back to the tactic of throwing blame away from her by focusing on the lab that had handled the Reaser case. "Who knows what other mistakes that lab made?"

Sara was momentarily speechless at her behavior. "You used to care about the truth."

Dr. Snyder got defensive. "Come on, Sara. We're not on the same side anymore. It's my job to poke holes in the science."

Sara decided to get under Dr. Snyder's skin by mocking her performance from before the shooting. "And put on a show for the jury, right?" Dr. Snyder scoffed. "Luke Reaser raped and killed Lasky's wife and five-year-old daughter. Slit their throats and then dumped their bodies in the trash. That's why Lasky went on this rampage." Sara couldn't contain her anger any longer. "Eleven people are dead because of you!"

Despite her disgust at what Reaser had done to Lasky's family, Dr. Snyder wasn't done trying to skirt the blame. "I didn't put the gun in Lasky's hand."

Sara wasn't going to let her deflect any more. "No, you kind of did. Lasky sent you emails. He sent you threats over a month ago. You didn't report it."

"I get threats all the time. News flash, Sara. I'm a woman of strong opinions. Some people," she gestured to Sara to make her point, "just don't like me."

Sara shook her head. "Uh-uh. None of this would have happened if you had just gone to the police, Jane. Why don't you put that in your press conference?"

Dr. Snyder looked both shaken and dismissive. It didn't matter what Sara said, she had learned long ago how to let the guilt of helping criminals escape justice slide off her conscience. The only thing that made this encounter sting was that Sara was right. If she had reported Lasky's threats, this shooting might not have happened today. She turned her back to Sara and walked away, determined not to let Sara's words sink any deeper than they already had.

Sara watched her leave with a look of revulsion barely concealed on her face. This woman would never take responsibility for what her negligence had done. And in the end, there was no crime she could be charged with. Sara's chiming phone forced her to move on.

She had received a text. "_Body on 18th floor. Location cleared. You have the handle_." Sara went back to the home screen on her phone and headed back to work.

* * *

**A/N: So far the chapters haven't strayed too far from the episode. I've added what I think the characters are thinking/feeling based on what I saw in the episode, but that has been the only additions up to this point. That will start to change in the next chapter. Leave a comment below! Thanks!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank Noodle the Albino Python, phnxgrl, and RosePetal7 for their reviews. RosePetal7: thanks for the clarification. I'm not aiming it that direction, but who knows. I like to keep my options open. This chapter is where I diverge from what happened in the episode, hence the story summary. We're starting with Sara. Enjoy!**

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Chapter 3

Sara arrived on the 18th floor with the supplies she had left from the vendors and looked for the body. It seemed a little strange that no one had been posted on the floor to stay with the body, but if SWAT was still sweeping the hotel for any surprises Lasky might have left behind, they wouldn't necessarily have the manpower they would need if they left someone behind. She turned a corner and spotted the body of an African American woman in the middle of the hall.

As she got closer, she recognized the woman as Linda Gage. Sara remembered working with her a few years ago when they served on the review team to investigate a fellow CSI's work. She couldn't figure out what Gage's connection to Lasky was, but finding that connection wasn't important at the moment. Right now it was her job to process the crime scene.

Sara set her makeshift kit down and pulled out her phone to take a few crime scene overview shots. Next she knelt next to the victim to capture the close-ups of Gage's wounds. Blood had leaked from several wounds on her chest and had pooled under her neck and along her sides. Her eyes were open and unseeing in death, mouth slightly open in surprise or fear. Sara made sure to take a couple photos of each wound before reaching into her kit for gloves and a cotton swap to collect blood and trace evidence.

She had just collected a couple swaps for DNA and trace when her phone rang. Caller I.D. said it was Russell. Sara stripped off her gloves and answered. "Hello?"

Russell sounded worried. "_Where are you?_"

"I'm on the 18th floor."

"_What? Why are you up there?_"

"I got a text…"

"_Look, there's a second shooter. Name is Cliff Ballard._"

That was not a name Sara expected to hear today. "Cliff Ballard? He's in prison."

Behind her, Ballard's nasally voice interrupted whatever Russell was saying. "I got out in August."

Sara turned around to see a silenced gun pointed right at her. Ballard looked anxious as he was holding the gun. He was dressed in a cheap suit and tie like most other criminalist attending the conference, which might explain how no one had noticed him before now.

Ballard gestured with his free hand. "Give me the phone."

Sara kept her voice calm, hoping she could defuse the situation. "All right." She handed the phone to him.

Ballard snatched it from her hand and then tossed it behind him. "Now the gun."

Sara nodded and unclipped her holstered gun from her hip, silently handing it to him. Again, he snatched it from her and tossed it behind him, too far out of reach to be of much use. Now that she had been disarmed, Ballard's eyes were hard as he kept his gun trained on her.

Sara wanted answers. "The text telling me to come up here…it was from you, wasn't it?" She was scared, but kept her voice fairly even, just as she'd been trained to do in hostile situations.

Ballard looked pleased she had figured it out and smug that his plan had worked. "I wanted to get you alone."

"This woman, Linda Gage?" Sara looked down at the victim and back up to Ballard. "She was part of the review team. You killed her, didn't you?"

Ballard looked down at her too. "She helped send me to prison." The gun had lowered briefly, but when he looked back at Sara, he raised it into her face again. "Just like you."

Sara tried desperately to convey to him that she hadn't done so maliciously. "It was not personal. We were just asked to take a look at your work."

Ballard was upset. "I was a good criminalist."

Sara hurried to agree with him. "I know you were, Cliff. You did a lot of good work over the years."

"I put rapists and murderers behind bars." He was justifying his criminal actions. "They were all guilty. They deserved what they got."

"I'm sure they did, but…" she needed him to see reason, "you tampered with the evidence to get the results you wanted."

He was looking at her like she just didn't understand. "I didn't have a choice. The detectives come to you. They want a slam dunk." Sara noticed the gun he was holding was lowering. "Evidence isn't always like that."

Sara agreed again. "It's a lot of pressure. I've been there many times. Convictions hinge on conclusive evidence, and if you don't have enough, you feel like a failure."

Ballard nodded. "I had to do something."

Sara was relieved he staying with her. "I understand. It's natural to want to help the case along, to…" It was the wrong thing to say. His face contorted with rage and he lunged at her, grabbing her shoulder and aiming the gun at her head at point blank range.

"You don't understand! If you did, you wouldn't have helped send me away!"

Sara tried to get through to him again. "Cliff, wait."

There was no stopping him now. "You treated me like a criminal." He moved the gun to point at her stomach, rage dictating his actions. The gun's hammer was cocked and Sara's eyes widened in fear. "Destroyed my life!"

Sara was terrified. She couldn't look away from his face. Despite being trained to defend herself, today she couldn't move. Frozen in fear, time stretched. Seconds felt like minutes and then the gun fired. She felt the bullet enter her body, felt the ignited gunpowder burn her skin. She felt the blood begin to leak from her body as the bullet tore through her abdomen.

And then she felt the pain. It was like a fire raging through her along the path the bullet had taken and she listed to her right, hitting the wall and then sliding down it. Her hands were clutching her middle to try and stem the flow of blood, but it wasn't enough. Her life was flowing through the gaps in her fingers, trickling onto her pants and the floor.

Ballard was standing over her. "It's what you deserve." He raised the gun again and started to cock the hammer again.

Down the hallway, a gunshot rang out and Ballard collapsed, his gun clattering to the floor as he fell. Sara noticed the edges of her vision were starting to go black as shock set in. Sound was muffled. The SWAT team swarmed around her, one checking that Ballard was dead, another calling for a medic.

"Shots fired, shots fired. Suspect is down. One injured. We need a medic. Repeat, we need a medic on eighteen." Sara passed out as she was moved to make it easier to apply pressure.

"_What are the injuries?_"

"Gunshot to the abdomen, heavy bleeding."

"_Copy that. Paramedics are in the elevator heading to your position. Stand by._"

"Stay with us."

* * *

Finn was so glad to be outside. Mark's ambulance had left a few minutes ago and she was checking in with the CSI's who'd been sent to completely process all the crime scenes now that the hotel had been cleared completely. Nick had gone in already to get started with the other conference rooms and Greg was working the elevator Finn and Mark had been stuck in. Finn had decided she should stay and help instead of go with Mark, because if she went with Mark, all she'd be doing was sitting in a hospital waiting room. At least here she could be helpful.

Russell pulled up and got out looking frantic. Finn walked over to him. "I'm fine. They got us out not long after you texted."

"Yeah, I know. It's Sara. I was talking to her when she was shot by the second gunman."

Finn took a step back in surprise, her mind only processing parts of that sentence at a time. "Wait, there was a second shooter? When I spoke to Sara, she said she only saw one."

"She did. The other one was shooting people upstairs."

Finn's brain finally registered that Sara had been shot. "Is she going to be okay?"

Russell shook his head. "I don't know, SWAT said she was bleeding pretty bad. I don't know more than that. There she is."

They turned around to see the paramedics wheeling Sara outside. An oxygen mask was covering her mouth and nose, her shirt had been cut open, and a gauze pad covered her stomach. Just like her shirt and pants, the pad was stained red and the paramedics were hurrying to get her to the ambulance. As they got closer, Russell and Finn could see she was unconscious and her skin was so pale it was almost grey.

Russell had to look away. "Oh, God."

Nick had come out the doors soon after the gurney and stopped by Finn and Russell to watch Sara get loaded into the ambulance and drive away. "I thought Ballard had been shot by SWAT. What happened?"

"He was, but not until after Sara had been shot." Russell took a breath to regroup. "Okay, okay. I've got Morgan at the hospital to get the bullets from Mark and Sara. What I need right now is for you two to do your best in there. I know we already got the shooters, but the D.A. wants to know exactly what happened in there so we can wrap this up in a nice bow. Can you do that?"

Nick nodded. "You got it."

Finn's eyes were locked on the ambulance as it raced down the street. Russell moved his head closer to her line of sight to get her attention. "Finn? Are you okay to work?"

"I should have called in when we got out of the elevator. I should have been with her."

"It's too late for thoughts like that." Finn hadn't looked away yet. "Jules, there's nothing you can do about that now. I need your head in the game. Do you understand?"

Finn looked down at the ground to center herself and nodded. "I'm here. Where do you want me to start?"

"Take Nick, start on eighteen and work down. I'll work with Greg down here." Russell grabbed Finn's kit from the car and handed it to her. "I'm counting on you guys."

Nick looked determined. "We won't let you down."

Finn turned back to the Mediterranean and followed Nick back inside. She couldn't believe this happened. Two people shot up a forensic conference. Finn didn't know how many died today or why the shooters did what they did in the first place. She'd been stuck in an elevator trying to keep Mark alive.

On the elevator, Nick gave Finn the rundown on what had transpired. The shooters were not working together. They both hated law enforcement and had their own reasons and hit lists. Sara had been on Ballard's because the review team she'd been on had helped put him in jail for tampering with evidence.

The doors opened on eighteen and they stepped off. "Super Dave, what do we have here?"

David's demeanor was subdued. "Single gunshot wound to the back, no exit wound. He also has GSR on his right hand."

Nick pointed at the two other blood pools on the floor. "What are these here?"

"The one closest to the wall was from Sara. The other one was from Linda Gage. Sara photographed her already. I did my exam and had her transported to the van. I hope you don't mind."

"No, that's cool." Nick noticed that Finn was just staring at the streak of blood on the wall. "Hey, you okay?"

Finn looked up at him. "What?"

"You okay?"

"Yeah." She set her kit down. "We should get to work, huh?"

* * *

**A/N: Is Sara going to make it? Leave a message below and we'll see.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank phnxgrl, Noodle the Albino Python, and mt6shock for their reviews. phnxgrl and mt6shock: I'm not sure when Grissom will appear in this story. I don't have a definite plan for the story arc. In truth, it will probably follow the episodes for this season loosely, though I probably won't write for every episode. We are starting this chapter with Morgan's POV. Most of it is me adding to/changing the episode to fit the story, though I did include the scene with Finn and Mark. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 4

Morgan had arrived at the hospital in time to see Mark get wheeled into surgery. One of the nurses who recognized her as a CSI promised to collect his clothes and the bullet for her as soon as she could. Now Morgan was just waiting for Sara to come in. She sat down in a chair and looked at her hands. Vicki's blood was still caked around her fingernails. She reached into her bag and grabbed a wet nap to try and scrub it off.

The bay doors opened and chaos poured in. "43 year-old female. GSW to the abdomen."

Trauma doctors converged on the gurney. "What happened?"

Morgan found herself following. "Is she going to be okay?"

The doctors ignored her. "She went into cardiac arrest and stopped breathing en route. Administered CPR, an amp of epi, and used the defib. Had to intubate to assist with breathing. We gave her a bag of O- and fluids on the way over, but she needs more."

"Let's get her into surgery."

Morgan stopped when she saw Sara. Her torso was covered with blood. Whatever hope she'd had that Sara's injuries were minor disappeared in an instant. The doctors with Sara disappeared behind the doors leading into the O.R. and Morgan sank to the floor. Today had been hell and she was struggling to keep herself afloat.

She was still squatting against the wall when Hodges found her. "Morgan."

"Hodges." Morgan got to her feet and threw her arms around him, tears trickling onto his shoulder. "I'm scared. Sara… she looked so bad. I don't think she's going to make it."

Hodges returned the embrace. "She's going to make it. She's a fighter."

Morgan nodded and eventually Hodges managed to direct them into chairs nearby. Morgan cried into his shoulder until she regained control of her emotions enough to sit up properly. For a while they sat in silence. At some point, Morgan had gone back to scrubbing the area around her nails with the wet nap. Hodges watched for a moment and then took one of her hands in his.

"Hydrogen peroxide removes blood better. The nurses usually have some handy somewhere."

Morgan was silent for another moment, just looking at her hands. "We always wear gloves when we go to the crime scene. You know? We're never there… there when it… when it actually happens."

Hodges nodded. "I know. It's never easy watching someone die, especially when it's someone you know. I'm sorry you had to go through that."

After a moment of silence, Morgan turned to him as she realized he was here and not at the lab. "Shouldn't you be at the lab processing evidence?"

"Nothing from the hotel has come in yet, and I figured you might need my company a little more than the GC/MS does. I asked Henry to text me when evidence started to arrive." His phone buzzed with a text. "And speak of the devil. Duty calls."

Morgan looked a little sad. "You should go then."

"I can stay if you prefer. The shooters have already been stopped; it's not like trace is going to lead PD to where they are."

Morgan was about to respond when the nurse she'd spoken to earlier called her name. "I have the clothes from Mark Perlow and Sara Sidle." She held out two large evidence bags to her.

Morgan stood as she took them. "Thank you. How are they doing?"

"Both are still in surgery. I'm afraid that's all I know for now."

"And the bullets?"

The nurse shook her head. "They haven't been extracted yet. Sorry."

Morgan sat again. "Now I wait. Can you take these back to the lab for me?"

Hodges nodded. "Sure. You'll be okay here?"

Morgan nodded. "Yeah. Thanks for sitting with me."

"Any time." Hodges grabbed the bags. "If you need me to come back, just call. I'll come right back."

* * *

Mark was reclining in a hospital bed just staring at the wall across from him. Finn had finished up the two upstairs crime scenes at the Mediterranean with Nick before she had to leave. Despite being the "Blood Whisperer" and analyzing numerous scenes covered in it, she just had to leave. Processing eighteen, and knowing some of the blood belonged to Sara, had taken a toll after having to care for Mark in the elevator. Finn had just gotten to a point where she couldn't take any more blood today.

Finn put on a good face and went in to see Mark. His eyes snapped to her as soon as she neared the threshold. Due to the pain killers, it took him minute to recognize her. When he did, his face lit up like she was his favorite person in the world. That look helped fuel the smile on her face.

"Hey."

It was good to hear his voice sounding stronger. "Hey. Nurse said you were out of surgery and you needed a visitor."

"Yep. I got to the Pearly Gates. They sent me back."

Finn's smile widened. "I'm glad they did."

His features changed to a look which conveyed the seriousness of his next statement. "You saved my life."

Finn flipped her hair. "Well, buy me dinner. We'll call it even." She moved to take a seat.

He contemplated that for a moment and nodded. "Deal."

"So the doctor said that you're gonna need some time to recover. And that you cannot fly back to Boston for at least two weeks, so… I was hoping that maybe we could…" she was about to say date, but that sounded presumptuous, "hang out. You know, when you get back up on your feet."

He looked a little confused. "You mean date?"

Okay, so he heard what she'd been hesitant to say. "Yeah. Like, uh, dinner and a movie and a goodnight kiss." She was surprised by how excited she felt about that possibility.

"Well, as you know, dating sometimes can turn into a…" he sighed in amusement, "a real relationship."

Finn nodded, butterflies in her stomach. "I'm willing to risk it."

He nodded. "Me, too." Finn smiled, but her face fell a little when Sara's name drifted across her mind. He noticed. "What? What's wrong?"

She looked at him. "It's Sara. She was shot point blank upstairs a little after we got out of the elevator."

Mark was concerned. "Is she okay?"

Finn shrugged. "I don't know. She lost a lot of blood. I saw her when she was brought to the ambulance. You were in much better shape."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Keep me distracted?"

Mark smiled. "I can do that."

* * *

**Meanwhile...**

Morgan was pacing the waiting room for the fourth time when the nurse returned holding two vials with bullets and fragments in them. "Here are the bullets you wanted. They're labeled. Hope this helps."

"Thank you." Morgan looked at the vial marked "Sara Sidle." The bullet was mostly intact, though a couple small slivers were also in the vial. At some point the bullet had fragmented a little. _Who knew how much damage those small fragments might have done?_ "How is she doing?"

"She's still in there. Mark Perlow is out of surgery and awake, so things are looking good there. Ms. Sidle should be out of surgery soon."

Morgan nodded. It wasn't much information, but it was a start. "Thank you. I should get these back to the lab. Will you call me when she gets out?"

The nurse nodded. "Of course."

"Thanks."

* * *

Voices. They were talking nearby but the sound was distorted, almost like the noise was coming from around a corner. And everyone seemed to be talking at once. Nothing being said was discernible and what words were clear made no sense. Sara tried to open her eyes, but the lids were too heavy. She tried again and light came in, but then her eyes closed again and she drifted back to sleep.

After some time had passed, she started to float back to consciousness again. Her eyelids cooperated a little better this time around, but she still had to blink several times before she actually started to register the images she was seeing. The ceiling was white with florescent strip lighting. Across from her was a wall with a window and door in it, but the other side of the window wasn't the outdoors, it was a hallway. To her left, machines beeped in time with her heartbeat. _I'm in a hospital_.

A soft knock on the door frame attracted Sara's attention. "Are you feeling up to visitors?"

Sara smiled, "Finn."

Finn came in and took the open seat. "You had us worried there."

Sara smirked. "Well, you know, I got to keep you guys on your toes sometimes, right? How's Mark?"

"He's going to make it. He'll be stuck in Vegas for a few weeks, but that's about all he really has to worry about."

"I'm sure you're just devastated about that."

Finn chuckled. "Yeah, it's going to be a tough few weeks."

Sara started to drift off to sleep again. "That's good."

"Sara?" There was no response as the pain meds claimed Sara's consciousness. "I'm going to be right here until you wake up again, okay? You go ahead and sleep. I'll still be here."

A couple hours later, Sara woke up again. In the meantime, the doctor had come in, checking in on Sara not long after she had fallen asleep as well as talking to Finn for a few minutes. Finn had then sat watching Sara sleep. Some of their colleagues dropped in to see that she was okay and drop off flowers, but none stayed for long when they saw she was asleep.

Morgan was the one who stayed. There had to be something in all three of them experiencing the horror of the day that made them want to be together. Their plans to go to dinner and then enjoy a VIP table were obviously canceled, but that didn't mean they weren't going to support each other in their time of need.

Sara's eyes fluttered before opening completely. "Finn?"

"I'm right here."

"You didn't leave."

Finn smiled. "Of course not. I said I would stay. Morgan's here now, too."

The pain killer stupor was beginning to wear off. "Morgan?"

"Hey. How are you feeling?"

"As long as these painkillers keep working, I'm fine." Sara turned to Finn. "Has the… um… doctor come in yet?"

Finn nodded, though there was something tense in her gaze. "Yeah, he came in a couple hours ago. You'd just fallen asleep again; he didn't want to wake you."

"What did he say?"

Finn hesitated. "I'll leave it to him to tell you. If I tried to explain, I'm sure I'd mess something up." Morgan hadn't been there when the doctor came in and was looking at Finn strangely. Finn shook her head slightly to tell Morgan not to ask. She didn't want Sara demanding answers.

Sara's face looked strange, but she wasn't looking at them anymore. At first her expression was confused, and then it took on a slightly panicked appearance. Little by little, her breathing increased in rhythm until she was almost hyperventilating.

Morgan stood and moved to Sara's bedside. "Sara, what's wrong? Are you in pain? Do you need me to call a doctor?"

"I… I can't…"

"Can't what?"

Sara's head tilted back into the pillow, anguish all over the face as tears threatened to spill from her eyes. Finn closed her own and sighed. She had hoped that the painkillers would prevent Sara from noticing until the doctor came in to explain everything, but that wasn't the case. Sara had her eyes squeezed shut and tears were running down her face.

Morgan was panicking in her helplessness. "Sara, tell me what's wrong so I can help."

Sara shook her head, and then pulled in a shaky breath, her lower lip trembling. "I can't feel my legs."

* * *

**A/N: For those of you who have read my Castle story, you may have known that my stories tend to take a darker tone for character's stories. This is not going to be an angsty fic, and yes, things will (hopefully) get better. Leave a comment below about where you think this story is headed. Thanks!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank Noodle the Albino Python, jj, Taylor Carter, phnxgrl, RosePetal7, and mt6shock for their reviews. jj: you're the second person who has requested this becomes a snickers story. I won't guarantee this will or won't be one; for now I'm just letting the story tell me where it wants to go. RosePetal7: all will be explained in this chapter. This chapter starts a couple hours after the last one ended. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 5

Sara looked around at the flowers in her room in disgust. Her friends and colleagues had left them for her with messages like "Get well soon!" on them, but that was never going to be. Her doctor had come in and explained how bad her injury was. A lone tear trickled down her cheek as she thought about what he'd said. Apparently the bullet had partially severed her spinal cord between T12 and L1. She would never walk again.

Sara had kicked out Finn and Morgan soon after she realized she couldn't feel or move her legs. Finn had admitted that she knew about the paralysis, but that wasn't the reason Sara kicked them out. She was just a very private person. The trauma and pain of her past meant she tended to deal with her emotions in private. The idea of letting them see her fall apart was too difficult and embarrassing to allow. After they left, she had cried for several minutes. She couldn't even begin to contemplate how she was going to live with this.

Russell came in with a simple bouquet in a small vase. "May I come in?"

Sara looked away. "I kind of want to be alone right now."

In typical Russell fashion, he ignored that. "My wife cut these from her flower garden. It's hard to keep these plants alive in this desert, but she enjoys it. Well, that and her painting. Both help her feel like she still has a little piece of Seattle at home."

Sara looked at the flowers. "They're beautiful."

"Yeah. She always did have a talent for that sort of thing." He set the flowers on the counter with the others. "You have a lot of people who care for you, Sara."

She nodded. "I know."

He took a seat. "How are you doing with all this?"

Sara scoffed. "Word travels I see."

"I spoke to Finn, yes. She feels awful about not coming clean with you when you asked what the doctor said. You should know that Morgan didn't know about it."

Sara sighed. "I didn't kick them out for that. And I know Morgan had no idea. I'm not blaming them for that. I get why Finn didn't say anything." She started to get choked up. "How do you tell one of your friends that they will never walk again?"

"So you're not mad at them."

Sara shook her head. "No. I just have a tendency to hide what I'm going through from people. In this case, I couldn't leave them, so I had them leave me."

Russell nodded. "Well, that might be okay initially, but in the long run it'll be easier for you and everyone else around you if you reach out to them. We're all here for you, Sara."

Sara nodded. "I know. This is just all so new to me."

Russell nodded. "It's new to everyone."

Sara looked sad. "I'm not going to be a CSI anymore, am I?"

"Why do you say that?"

"I can't walk, I can't bend over or squat to pick up evidence, I won't be able to see over most counters anymore…"

Russell held up a hand. "I'm going to stop you right there. You are not finished unless you want to be finished. Walking or not, you are still a great CSI. And besides, people in wheelchairs are capable of doing so many things. Think about the Paralympic athletes. Think about Doc Robbins. He is a double amputee and he's still capable of being a great M.E. You are not done. We just need to make a few adjustments is all."

"What, the lab's going to get a complete remodel?"

"Probably not. Besides, I'm fairly certain that doorways and all of that are already up to code for wheelchair access. I- I'm just saying we're going to figure everything out. Together."

"What about Ecklie?"

Russell waved a hand. "I've already talked to him. He's not going to fire you. He likes your work and besides, politically it would be a suicide move to fire someone who was injured in the line of duty."

"So I still have a job?"

Russell smiled. "If you want it, yes, you still have a job. You may have to give up your firearm if you can't qualify, but you still have a job."

"I'd like that."

"Good. Is there anyone you'd like me to call?"

Sara shook her head. "No. The doctors already called my mother and everyone else works in the lab, so no."

"What about your ex-husband, Grissom?"

Sara's reaction was discomfort. "Ah, no. We're divorced, he was living on his boat last time I talked to him, so no. I have no reason to tell him about this."

Russell could tell their divorce was still something painful to Sara, so he didn't push. "Okay. If you change your mind, just let me know."

"Thanks for the offer, but I won't." She moved to adjust her shoulders. A sharp pain shot through the lower part of her body. She sucked in a breath and moaned.

Russell hit the nurse call button. A couple minutes later a kind faced woman walked in. "She needs help adjusting her position. It's really painful for her right now."

"No problem." The woman adjusted the pain meds and then carefully helped move the pillows behind Sara into more comfortable positions. "Is that better?"

Sara nodded, her face pale from the effort it took to move. "Yes, thank you."

"If you need anything else, just hit the call button."

Russell nodded. "Thank you."

Sara sighed as the woman left. "Is this my life now?"

Russell shook his head. "No, no. That's just the bullet wound talking. Once that heals, you'll be in much better shape."

Sara nodded, her eyelids getting heavy from the added pain meds. "I hope so."

Russell smiled as her eyes closed. "Get better, Sara. We're all here for you." Sara smiled as Russell stood and held her hand briefly before he went home.

* * *

**Almost three months later…**

Rehab sucked. Sara had been in the hospital for close to three weeks for close observation and tests. It was eventually determined that she had been lucky in terms of how much of her body was affected by the paralysis, a sentiment that Sara didn't fully share. As the inflammation and swelling began to go down, she did regain feeling to the area just above her hip joint, but no more than that. In the end, she had full control and feeling in 97% of her torso, but her legs were gone.

Which was why she was in rehab now. She needed to learn how to live on her own with her disability. The assisted living facility where Sara was being treated provided rehabilitation, instruction on adapting to living independently, and counseling for those who had recently suffered a spine injury. It was nice to be receiving such good care while she recovered from the gunshot wound and started her transition to life in a wheelchair. And she wasn't alone. Her roommate had a similar injury, though hers was a result of a car accident. She was also farther along in her recovery and had learned a few tricks that made things easier.

Cally wheeled into their room to see Sara on the floor trying to get her chair's wheels to lock. "What happened?"

Sara leaned back against her bed. "My back seized up." She tried to move the chair into a better position.

"Were the brakes locked when you tried to get in?" The chair was not staying still.

"Yes. I had to undo them so I could lie down until my back stopped spazing out. Now I can't get them to lock again."

Cally moved the chair into a better position and reengaged the brakes. "Are you well enough to try again?"

Sara sighed. "Yeah." It took a few minutes of struggling, but Sara managed to pull herself into the chair. "Got a shortcut for that?"

Cally smiled. "That's something that takes strength. Right now you have to train your body to use muscles in a different way. You'll get there."

Sara nodded; she was breathing hard from the effort to pull herself into the chair. "Probably doesn't help to have a mending hole in my stomach."

"No, probably not." Cally headed for the door. "You coming? It's time for therapy."

Sara slowly moved out the door and awkwardly rolled down the hall to the elevator. The chair just felt big and clumsy to Sara. It was the type used in hospitals; generic, oversized, boxy, and mass produced. One of the therapists here was a chair user and his seemed to be formed to his body. If Sara was going to return to the lab, she was going to need to get one of those custom chairs.

Down on the ground floor, Sara followed Cally to the gym. Inside were weight machines of many kinds, rows of parallel bars to practice walking, and a few other tools to gain strength or dexterity. Up until recently, Sara had wanted to head straight for the machines she'd used before her injury, only to remember she no longer could. In the past week, she had settled on a few she could use now.

She was about to head for the first machine when her therapist found her. "Sara, good morning. Are you ready?"

"Sure. Same routine?"

"Let's shake it up today. Come over to the parallel bars."

Sara froze. "I can't walk. My injury makes that impossible."

"You can use the bars for more than walking." The therapist headed for the bars with a reluctant Sara in tow. "Strength training is an important part of your recovery. You're going to be relying on your upper body strength to get around, which means you'll need to be able to support your body weight with your arms sometimes. I've got a few exercises for you that only require a set of parallel bars."

They went over different exercises for an hour and a half. Some were easy, some were a struggle to do more than five repetitions. Cally was right; Sara was having to train her muscles to work in a different way. The last exercise had her supporting her weight on her hands, "walking" down the row while dragging her feet behind her. Sara got halfway down the line before her arms gave out. She collapsed between the bars and landed on her wrist awkwardly. Her arm was fine, but her breath had been knocked out of her.

"Are you okay?"

Sara shook her head, struggling to breathe. Her therapist helped her back into her chair and did a quick check for any major injury. She didn't find one, but didn't want to risk it. The therapist sent Sara to the infirmary to get checked up. The checkup gave her the all clear; all she was really going to have was a bruise. With the all clear signed off, Sara left the doctor and headed straight to lunch.

Cally was waiting for her. "I saw you fall. Are you okay?"

Sara grabbed a tray and nodded. "Yeah, my arms just got a little tired. Got the wind knocked out of me."

"I'm glad you're okay. By the way, someone is here to see you."

"Who?"

Cally pointed to the corner. "He's over there."

Sara's eyes scanned the corner and settled on the young face of her goofy, blonde-haired friend. She smiled and headed toward him. "Greg. What are you doing here?"

He smiled as he walked up to her. "I wanted to see you. You look good."

"You're just saying that to make me feel better."

"No, I mean it. You look great."

Sara smirked and headed back toward the lunch line. "Thanks. How's the lab without me?"

"It just isn't the same." He followed her as she maneuvered through the line. "Finn is trying to fill your shoes, but she's not you. You should like what we've done with the place. We made it a little more wheelchair friendly."

"Good to know." Sara lead the way as they headed to a table. Greg had to grab one of the spare chairs from the side of the room so he would have somewhere to sit. "I'm ready to get back out there. Now if only my body was ready too."

"You'll be back out with us soon enough. You just need to focus on getting better."

"Yeah, I know. It's a slow process. I keep thinking I'm getting better and then something happens and I'm reminded of how far away I am."

Greg smiled and waved a hand dismissively. "Ah, I wouldn't worry about that. You'll be back on your feet in…" He froze, realization of what he'd just said twisting his features into a grimace. "Sara, I'm so sorry. I didn't realize what I was saying…"

Sara was looking down at her tray trying to hide how much that simple slip of his tongue had hurt. "It's okay. I know what you were trying to say."

"Sara…"

"I gotta go. Group is in a few minutes."

With that, she backed away from the table and headed back to the dorms. Greg stood up to say something, but the words got stuck in his throat. He was mentally kicking himself for being so stupid. Now she probably hated him. Soon it was too late to call her back to apologize again and he was forced to just watch as Sara rolled out of the cafeteria, leaving her lunch untouched on the table.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry about the time jump in the middle of the chapter, but I didn't think much hospital time really had to be shown. The next chapter will probably start a few months after this one ended, and it will probably be a few days before I post another chapter. I hope you stay with me and continue leaving all those wonderful comments. Thanks!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: I'm back. Sorry about the break between postings. The holidays interrupted the amount of time I had available to write. First off, I'd like to thank Noodle the Albino Python, phnxgrl, Olivia Joanne Rodrigues, was spratlurid quimby, ****and ****RosePetal7 for their reviews. Olivia Joanne Rodrigues: you're the first Sandle request which I'm going to guess is a Greg Sanders and Sara Sidle shipping. Most likely a no on that pairing, sorry. was spratlurid quimby: the angsty parts should be over soon, though there may be a little in future chapters as Sara continues to adjust. **RosePetal7**: Sara is a strong woman. Sorry that you were wrong, and yes, I think after this chapter she will be able to adjust to her new circumstance well.**

**This chapter is not starting a few months after the last one. We are actually going to start with the group therapy session Sara mentioned. This chapter also includes a time jump. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 6

Sara was quiet during group. The conversation with Greg was still playing through her head. Up until his slip of the tongue, he'd been nothing but supportive and encouraging. Even the slip had been intended as encouraging words. She looked down at her motionless, sensationless legs and sighed. Yes, the slip had hurt, but she knew exactly what he meant and had reacted badly. _I'll call him and apologize tonight_.

The group leader had noticed her preoccupation and asked her to stay behind after the meeting was over. "What's on your mind?"

"Oh, uh, a friend came to visit today. I didn't handle it very well."

"Tell me what happened."

Sara sighed. "He was being very supportive. That was fine. Then he started to say I would be back on my feet in no time. That's when I ran away."

"His words hurt because of the nature of your injury."

Sara nodded. "Yeah. And I reacted the way I normally react when I don't want to deal with something. I ran away."

The therapist was silent for a moment. "That's the second time you said 'I ran away.' Running is something that is typically thought of as involving legs and feet. The slip of the tongue you reacted to is…"

"The same one I keep making, I know." Sara hated being told things she already knew. "That's what I've been thinking about all during group. I'm already planning on calling him and apologizing for my behavior."

The therapist smiled. "And then, going forward, you need to recognize that not everyone is going to be thinking about your condition the same way you always will."

Sara wiped away a tear that had started to fall. "How do I move on? How do I move past what happened?"

"You take it one step at a time. You learn what you can and can't do. You must be honest with your friends and family about your needs. When help is offered, you accept. Eventually you'll wake up one day and realize that you have moved on."

"I'm not very good at that."

The therapist nodded. "So I've gathered. Listen, Sara, what happened to you is a life changing experience. In here, you're fairly isolated from the real world because everyone here is either in the same boat as you or has spent their lives helping people with spinal injuries."

Sara looked down. "You're saying it's only going to get harder."

"Thomas Fuller is credited with saying, 'the night is darkest before the dawn.' Accepting this as your life now is the first step. Everything else will come with time."

"Thanks."

The therapist smiled again as she stood. "There comes a time when we all have to stop running from our circumstances. You'll get there."

* * *

**One month later…**

The next month flew by. Sara was beginning to come to terms with what had happened and physical therapy from that moment on had been easy. Sara threw herself into the work, determined to be as independent as possible. Going from the floor to her chair had become easy, just like most everything else. Now she just needed a customized chair of her own.

Nick and Finn had volunteered to bring her home. Finn helped Sara pack her clothes and Nick traded Sara's facility provided chair with one the lab had acquired for a case at some point. They wheeled her to Nick's SUV, asking about what had happened since their latest visits and filling her in on some of the lab gossip. The SUV was too high for Sara to make the transition on her own, so Nick had to help her up.

Sara drank in the sights on the way home. She hadn't realized how much she had missed the Vegas life until she got to see it again. It looked like the casino that had been under construction had finally opened. For a while, Sara was just happy to see the sun out a car window again and breathe in the desert air. As they got closer to the lab, she began to worry a bit. She hadn't anticipated going to the lab so soon.

"Guys, aren't we going to wrong way to take me home?"

Nick turned his head a little. "Yeah, but everyone wanted to say hi."

"Nick, I'm not ready for that. I thought I was going home so I could figure out what I needed to change."

Finn turned around in her seat. "Sara, it's only for a few minutes. You go in, say hi, see what we've done at the lab to make things easier for you; that kind of thing. It'll be fine."

Sara looked out the window. "Fine."

They pulled into the parking structure and parked on the lowest level. Nick grabbed the chair from the back and help Sara out of the SUV to go inside. She was nervous. Like her therapist had said, things had become comfortable at the rehab center, but her time there had come to an end. Now she was being thrust into the real world and wasn't entirely sure she was ready for it.

Russell was waiting just inside the door. "I tried to talk them out of this."

"Out of what?"

The group rounded the corner and a wall of noise hit them. Everyone in the lab was standing by the reception desk and applauding. Greg and Morgan were closest, smiles big and bright. Next to them were Hodges, Henry, David, and Doc Robbins. Sara's cheeks reddened and she looked down, embarrassed at the attention.

Russell nodded his head toward the crowd. "This." After a few more seconds, Russell held up his hands. "All right, everyone. Back to your work, you've embarrassed her enough. Come on, come on, move along."

The applause trickled down and most of the crowd dispersed. Greg, Morgan, Hodges, Henry, David, and Doc Robbins stayed behind. One by one, they all came up and gave her a hug, welcoming her back to the lab. Sara found she was glad to see them there. In spite of the chair, she was glad to be home.

After they had given her hugs, everyone was sent back to work. Russell stayed behind to give her the tour. "Sorry about that, but it really is good to have you back. O- okay, so the tour. We didn't really have to change much. The doorways are already wide enough for even the bulky chair you're in now."

"How do you know?"

"Hodges. Yeah, he dug that chair out of storage and went around the lab checking all the doors. If he fit through, he slapped a sticky note on the door frame."

"Yeah, that sounds like Hodges."

"Yeah. He also helped us figure out where you'd need the most assistance. The layout room for instance," they went inside the layout room, "you might notice the table is a little high for you to see everything."

The top of the table was only a few inches below Sara's chin now. "Yeah, I'd never noticed how tall the table was before."

"Well, you got your own reserved spot now. Why don't you go down the left side, see what you think."

Sara maneuvered down the left side to find a ramp to a landing on the backside of the table. From here she was high enough to see the entire table. "That's much better."

"Ready to see more?"

Sara rolled back down the ramp. "Sure."

They went to the garage next. "You might remember this had a step here?"

"Yeah, I do. I don't think I'll be spending much time in here though."

Russell turned around. "We do more in here than tear cars apart."

Sara nodded in agreement. "That's true."

"We got a couple folding tables that are a few inches shorter than normal sitting height so they'll be easier for you to work at them. I think they're adjustable too, so if we need to tweak them…"

"Thanks, Russell."

He dismissed her thanks with a wave of his hand. "I didn't do much really. It was mostly Nick, Finn, and Hodges. They were figuring out what needed to change before I got a chance to have a family meeting about it."

Sara smiled. "I guess I should thank them then. I think getting back to work will be much easier now."

Russell snapped his fingers. "Oh right, I almost forgot. Your desk. They had a couple ideas that they wanted to run by you before they went and changed something. We should take a look before you head out."

"Great." Sara rolled up the ramp back into the lab and headed to the office she shared with her colleagues. Finn and Nick were standing next to a large box with a bow on top. "Guys, what's this?"

Finn smiled. "Well, one of the times I came to see you, you said something about looking into custom wheelchairs when you got home."

Nick stepped in. "Around that time, Catherine called. She'd heard about what happened and wanted to help. She sent this."

Nick and Finn lifted the box up to reveal a wheelchair. This one appeared to be a high end custom job. The frame was carbon fiber, the seat looked cushy, and the footrest frame was tapered to help keep her feet in one place. The hand rims were collapsible to help her fit through tighter doorways. There was one set of handles that Sara didn't recognize.

Sara couldn't stop grinning. "This is amazing."

"Mobility in this chair should be much better than the rust bucket you're in now, right?"

"It should be." Sara had just noticed there were three sets of straps. "What are the straps for?"

"I got to play with this earlier so I could show you." Finn sat in the chair. "The straps are here because of a really cool feature." She strapped herself in. "When you lock the brakes, you can do this."

Finn moved the mystery handles forward and the seat of the chair shifted upward until she was in a standing position. Sara's jaw dropped. When she'd been told she would never walk again, Sara had assumed she would be sitting for the rest of her life. With this chair, she now could be upright as often as she needed to be.

Russell smiled at Sara's expression. "Of course this means the ramp in the layout room is somewhat pointless now."

Sara found her voice. "No, it gives me options. How do you get down?"

Finn moved the handles backward. "The seat is on hydraulic pistons, so it lowers you smoothly." Within a few seconds, Finn was sitting again.

Sara smiled. "I've gotta try that."

Finn undid the straps and got out of the advanced wheelchair. Sara switched from the "rust bucket" to her new chair and, with Finn's help, adjusted all the straps so they would hold Sara securely. She then rotated the handles forward and, with a little effort, rose to a standing position. She started laughing as a few tears escaped her eyes. She was standing. Not on her own power perhaps, but she was standing.

She wiped her face. "I can't believe it."

Nick was grinning. "Not bad, right? Now you don't have to worry about changing too much of your life around. We did move your locker so it's close to the door."

"That was something I was going to suggest. Thank you." Sara moved the handles backward and she returned to sitting. "I was told you had an idea regarding my desk?"

"Oh, yeah." Nick went to his desk and grabbed a sketchbook. "I wasn't sure if you wanted to use a regular office chair anymore, but, if you did, I was thinking of building a frame over your desk so you could move the chair around or use it as a strength training station. You don't have to."

Sara looked at the design. "I don't know, Nick. I should probably get back to work officially before I decide on something like that."

He took back the sketchbook. "Fair enough. You want to go home now?"

Sara nodded. "Yes, please."

* * *

**A/N: While doing research on spinal injuries, I found this chair on Youtube that I thought would make Sara's life as a handicapped CSI much easier. It's called the Lifestand Helium Ultralight Standing Frame Manual Wheelchair. They are not cheap though (that's why Catherine bought it, she has that casino money from way back in the series :). It may be a couple days before I post again; I'm working on writing the chapters that correspond with the episode "Rubbery Homicide." Stay tuned and make sure you leave a review! Thanks!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank Olivia Joanne Rodrigues, phnxgrl, Guest, joann, abby, RosePetal7, mt6shock, Chocolate strawberries 123 for their reviews. RosePetal7: I love Hodges too and you should check it out. I haven't been able to find it at any online store, but the video on youtube was enough. mt6shock and Chocolate strawberries 123: I love that you love this story. Thanks so much for reading and leaving comments! Everyone's comments make me want to keep writing, so keep it up!**

**This chapter starts about a month after Sara returns from medical leave and is an alteration on the episode "Rubbery Homicide" for obvious reasons. Most of the chapter is just like the episode with little tweaks to put Sara in a wheelchair and provide internal thought, emotions, and additional actions not shown in the episode (similar to what I did with "Girls Gone Wilder"). Most of the episodes I incorporate in this story will be using a similar format, just FYI. I will try to include chapters that are not episode related every once in a while. With that said, enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 7

Sara and Russell arrived at the crime scene to see David Phillips already examining the body. Russell grabbed Sara's chair from the backseat and brought it to her door. A week after returning to work, they had finally figured out how to get Sara in and out of the SUV's without everyone needing to be strong enough to lift her. Out was easy. While the driver was getting the chair, Sara, in a passenger seat that was as far back as it would go, would lower herself till she was sitting on the floorboard. From there she could make the transition to her chair without further assistance.

Sara rolled backward enough for Russell to close her door and then she buckled the knee and lap straps to keep her in the chair. Once she was strapped in, Russell handed her a camera. For now, a camera and evidence markers were all she could conveniently use. She was still waiting for the custom attachment for her chair to arrive; it would hopefully make her kit less burdensome to carry and use.

Russell lifted the tape for them to duck under and then went to talk to David while Sara started taking photos of the crime scene. "What are we looking at, David?" He snapped a close up picture of the blood near the body.

"There's a lot of damage to the neck. I'm counting three sharp force injuries, and I saw more in the back."

Russell was using his flashlight to get a better look at the wall nearby. "Got arterial spray over here. So he was standing right there when he was stabbed."

Sara had her flashlight out too. "You know, if that's the case, you'd expect to see more blood on his torso. He must have been dressed, right? Clothing shielded him from the blood, and… the killer stripped him?"

Russell panned his flashlight over the ground. "Possibly. Got a lipstick case here." He knelt down and picked it up with a gloved hand. "It's got bloodstains on it. A woman was here?"

"Could be another victim."

Sara ran with David's theory. "Maybe an attempted rape that took a turn. Guy picks on the wrong woman, she pulls out a blade and stabs him."

Russell stood up. "Yeah, then why wouldn't she just run away? Stripping a victim usually suggests a sexual component."

Sara saw that Russell had a point. "Maybe our mystery woman was the predator."

David turned from Sara to Russell. "Could be a vigilante."

Russell looked down at the victim, wanting to end the speculation for now, a slight smile telling them he thought the theorizing was fine, but the evidence came first. "I think we're getting a little ahead of ourselves, actually."

Sara smiled and went back to examining the crime scene. "You may be right." She wheeled away from them, looking for blood, footprints, or anything that seemed out of place. _Well, that certainly qualified_. "Hey, guys?"

Russell barely looked up. "What is it?"

"Uh, I'm not sure. But it kind of looks like a face stamped in blood."

The guys came over and David looked just as quizzical as she felt. "Might be the dead guys face."

Russell looked back at the dead guy. "Yeah, but our victim barely has any blood on his face. I'm not so sure he could leave a mark like that."

Sara leaned a little closer to the unusual sight. "There could've been a struggle during the stabbing. Assailant gets blood on his or her face, gets taken down, face-planted onto the concrete, leaving the impression."

Russell shifted on his feet. "Could be our first impression of the killer."

Sara took pictures of the bloody face and sent the photos to Finn for her to examine. David had the body transported back to the morgue. Together, Sara and Russell combed the crime scene, using the ALS to look for blood and biologicals. Sara took pictures and Russell collected swabs of the blood from every location they found any. After an hour spent at the scene, Russell determined that they had done all they could for now.

They packed up their equipment in the back and Russell opened Sara's door. Unlike out, in required a bit more strength because gravity wasn't doing any of the work. She stood up with the chair's assistance and grasped the grab-handle with her right hand and put her left on her seat. Russell undid the belts holding her to the chair and Sara maneuvered her body into the car. D.B. collapsed her chair while she got situated and stored the wheelchair in the backseat. In no time at all, they were ready to return to the lab.

* * *

Back at the lab, Finn was having no luck with the face print Sara had sent her. Morgan came in as the computer coughed up another negative result. "So, how is the Blood Whisperer doing with the blood portrait?"

Finn's disappointment leaked into her voice. "Not so bloody well. Image filters are giving me no additional detail, and I tried facial recognition software with no luck."

"A face no forensic method could love."

"You know, the weird thing is, if you or I had our lovely faces smeared with blood and mashed into concrete, the resulting stamp would be bolder in some areas but not others."

Morgan could see where Finn was getting at. "Right. Because our faces aren't flat."

Finn nodded. "Yeah, but this face is."

"Well, we think it could be the face of our killer. So any chance it's a physical deformity of some sort?"

"Maybe." Finn was trying to think of what might cause such a deformity.

"Well, DNA says that all the blood at the scene belongs to the victim, and prints gave us an I.D." Morgan opened the folder in her hands so Finn could see. "His name is Nelson Kern. He's a local with a few priors for burglary. Officers are headed to check out his apartment now, and Nick just pinged his cell."

* * *

Nick's search for the victim's cell phone earned him the phone, a bloody purse, and a life-sized rubber female costume covered in bloody. He brought the evidence back to the lab to process it, finding a number of trace and other items to run. He also discovered several punctures in the suit that, according to the pictures Doc had sent, were consistent with the wounds the victim had sustained. Nick fumed the suit to find prints. While he waited, he did a web search on these rubber suits and found an entire site dedicated to the men who wore them.

Russell came in for an update. "Hey, Buddy."

"Hey, Homicide find anything in Nelson Kern's apartment?"

"No, nothing useful." Russell put on a pair of gloves. "Apparently the guy was a loner. No job, no family in the area. So how's it going with her?"

"We're doing pretty good. Doc's still working on the body, but he did send these over." Nick grabbed a shot off the board to demonstrate his discovery. "The stab wounds in the suit line up perfectly with the stab wounds in Kern's back."

Russell did a quick comparison. "So clearly he was wearing this when he was attacked." He paused to think. "Do we know why he was wearing it?"

Nick grabbed the tablet he'd done the web search on. "Yeah, I found similar suits online and a site dedicated to those who wear them. They call themselves Rubber Dolls. Men who wear these suits and masks transform into females. It's a form of full-body cross-dressing."

"Like living Barbies."

"Or, in this case, not so living." Nick moved to the other side of Russell. "I pulled a lot of trace from the suit's skin. Now, granted, a lot of it may be transfer from the dumpster, but so far we've got two perfumes, baby oil, carpet fibers, and residue from champagne, vodka, and mint liqueur."

Russell was shuffling through paper on the table, looking at the results Nick got. "Ooh, mint. Sounds like a wild party."

"With a brutal end." Nick moved to the next piece of evidence. "The blood smeared on the mask, that would explain how the face was stamped on the concrete. We may not know much about Nelson Kern, but maybe the suit's maker does. Superglue fuming didn't provide any viable prints, but there was one embedded in the silicone. Check it out."

Nick held it up so Russell could see. "Looks like someone touched the skin before it was set." He turned to Nick. "We know who?"

"Print came back to a local named Belinda Goff."

* * *

**Meanwhile...**

As soon as Doc Robbins had called, Finn headed down to the morgue for the autopsy report. Nelson Kern was on his side on the table, displaying the stab wounds on his back. Finn put on the white lab coat and gloves you were supposed to wear in the morgue and put her I.D. on the pocket. Doc was standing near the table, reading through his notes one more time so he wouldn't need to refer to them while giving his report.

Finn pushed open the door. "Hey Doc. What do you have for me?"

"Slight bruising on the edges of the lacerations suggests the weapon wasn't particularly sharp."

"Maybe a dull knife."

"I'm not so sure it was a knife," Doc started pointing to the wounds, "based on the square edges of the wounds." He moved on to the neck. "Severed his carotid artery. C.O.D. was exsanguination."

Finn noticed something on the victim's shoulder. "Looks like a human bite mark."

"Yeah, one of several incidental injuries I noted, including abrasions on his wrists and bruising on his arms." Doc gestured to each as he mentioned the injuries.

"Could be he was bound."

"He was also under the influence. Tox screen showed alcohol and ecstasy in his system."

Finn nodded. "Did you hear about the rubber suit?"

Doc looked displeased. "Yeah. Dressed up and messed up. Bad combo."

* * *

Russell went to speak to Belinda Goff, who told him where some Rubber Dolls would hang out together. Russell had asked Greg to go with him to the club. Within five minutes of arriving, Greg had been pegged as a cop and the club had been shut down to question all the Dolls and club guests in attendance. Apparently, the rubber suit's name was Charlene, she was the most popular, and she might have had a rival.

One of the Dolls had been attacked near the crime scene earlier in the week because of the costume. They now had a suspect. The Doll had caught the license plate on his attacker's motorcycle. A search in the DMV database gave them a name; the suspect was Clay Miller. LVPD picked him up soon after and brought him in for questioning. Due to the suspect's tough guy attitude, Nick had been selected to interrogate him.

Nick walked into the interrogate room with a folder in his hands. "Mr. Miller, do you know why you're here today?"

"Nope."

"Let me refresh your memory. A few nights ago you attacked a man dressed in a rubber suit that looked like a woman."

Miller shook his head in disbelief. "What kind of perv goes out like that?"

Nick had taken a seat. "What do you mean by that?"

"Wearing that costume, hiding his face. Guy's obviously embarrassed of himself."

Nick was getting a clear picture of who Miller was. "So, you want to look him in the eye? Huh? Is that it? You want to see his face?"

As Nick suspected, the idea of looking the man behind the mask in the eye made Miller extremely uncomfortable. "Nah, man, we're cool. What'd be the point?"

"Yeah, what's the point?" Nick opened the folder in front of him and pulled out a picture. "Take a look at the face of one of his friends." He slid the picture in front of Miller. "Someone didn't like the outfit he had on, so they cut him out of it with a knife."

Miller glanced between the photo of Kern dead at the crime scene and Nick, fear in his eyes. "No, you don't think I did that." Nick just stared him down. "No, I didn't do that. When was this? When was he killed?"

"Last night."

Miller looked a little relieved. "I was clocked in all night, pulling grave. Boss will tell you. Just ring him up. Look, look, all right, yeah, I roughed up the other one. If I'm getting charges for that, all good, but I ain't a murderer."

As much as he hated to say it, be believed Miller was telling the truth. "No charges. The victim doesn't want to press any. Doesn't want to show his face in court. Somehow, he's the one who's ashamed."

Miller looked slightly relieved, but at the same time ashamed. Nick hoped that Miller would remember this experience and clean up his act, at least a little. He gathered up the folder and photo and left, telling one of the officers to escort Mr. Miller out. Nick would still check Miller's story, but it looked like they needed a new suspect.

* * *

**A/N: Drop a message in the box below! Thanks!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: I'd like thank Olivia Joanne Rodrigues, phnxgrl, Chocolate strawberries 123, joann, mt6shock, RosePetal7 for their reviews. Olivia Joanne Rodrigues: Sara has been a little absent on the show recently, so it's been a little hard to incorporate her in the story as much I would like. I'll make sure to include some chapters that deal with her a bit more even if they aren't tie-ins with certain episodes. mt6shock: I like the Russell/Sara relationship too, very father/daughter at times. And to everyone else, thanks for reading!**

**This chapter starts with my two favorite lab rats. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 8

Henry ran the swabs he had collected from the outside of the rubber suit hoping to get touch DNA from the killer. The earrings in particular looked promising due to the sharp edges. As he thought, he did find some skin cells on the earrings, but the results on the computer screen were impossible. He stared at the name as the results printed.

He was still confused looking at the printout. "What the…"

Hodges walked in. "Henry. Your befuddlement is showing down the hallway."

Part of Henry felt he might be getting pranked. "This is all so weird."

Hodges nonchalance wasn't helping. "What do you have?"

"A DNA result, and a… ghost story."

Hodges was intrigued. "I'm listening."

"I was swabbing the Charlene suit, still hoping to find a sample of touch DNA from the assailant. I noticed the doll's earrings, figured their sharp edges could have caught a chunk of the killer. Sure enough, there were skin cells embedded in one of them. I ran DNA on the skin cells and got a hit in CODIS. A match to a woman…," he handed Hodges the results, "who died two years ago. Charlene Brock."

Hodges was now as befuddled as Henry. "Charlene? Like the suit?"

"They don't just share a name." Henry turned the laptop so Hodges could see it too. "They share a face."

Hodges recognized her. "I've seen that woman before. I mean, the real her."

"Charlene Brock had a short career as a model in the early '80s, including one poster that sold millions."

"Oh, that dress."

Henry was sure Hodges wasn't pranking him now. "Just like the one on Rubber Charlene."

Hodges straightened up, trying to piece together what this meant. "Let me get this straight. So, pinup goddess dies, is reborn in rubber, only to get murdered?"

Henry nodded. "With DNA from the real dead woman on the rubber body."

Hodges looked confused, disgusted, and disbelieving, all at the same time. "Insane."

Henry shook his head. "Charlene Brock's family still lives in town. Might be worth a call."

Hodges nodded. "I'll text Russell."

* * *

While Russell went to speak to Charlene Brock's family, Morgan decided to check out the chat rooms and message boards for Rubber Dolling. What she found was crazy. Reality shows were one thing; people in real life were something else entirely. And there were a couple promising leads to follow here as well.

Morgan looked away from the screens as Sara rolled in. "If you ever thought those reality show housewives were catty, they got nothing in these vulcanized vixens."

Sara locked her breaks and stood up to see the screens better. "Web forum for Vegas Rubber Dolls."

"Nick's hate crime suspect alibi'd out, so now I'm focusing on doll-on-doll drama. The gossip, the grudges. And this forum is where they like to sling a lot of dirt."

"Find anything helpful?"

"Maybe." Morgan scrolled down to a few posts that had caught her eye. "Charlene, it turns out, has a rival doll. The mysterious and alluring Lexy."

"Hmm. It's not one of the dolls that Russell and Greg met at the club."

"Story I've been able to put together from the forum is that Lexy was the queen of the club until Charlene showed up last month, becoming the new hot thing. And Lexy wasn't happy about it."

Sara had a new theory. "Social snub could become motive. Do we, uh, know Lexy's real identity?"

"Nobody breaks character on these sites. I messaged Lexy, but no response. But I noticed she wasn't in any of the posted club photos from the night of the murder." Morgan flipped through a few to show Sara.

"Well, maybe because she was outside in the alley waiting to attack Charlene." Sara's phone was ringing as a text came in. "Uni's just found Charlene's – well, Nelson Kern's – car a couple blocks from the club. You want to check it out?"

Morgan nodded. "Absolutely."

Sara rotated the handles backward. "Let's do it."

* * *

Morgan drove them to the car's location and grabbed Sara's chair. Once she was settled, they approached the car together. It was an older model vehicle, blue with some paint discoloration, and it was parked in a residential area not far from the club. Two squad cars were parked behind the car, the uniforms talking to each other.

Sara turned to Morgan. "Unis cleared it, but they didn't search it?"

The CSIs started examining the exterior of the car first. Morgan went to the trunk while Sara went to take a look inside. The blonde tried the latch and opened the trunk easily. Inside was another rubber suit.

"Whoa, Sara." Morgan looked over to her friend as she made her way to the trunk. "We know Charlene was Kern's rubber ride the night of his death, but take a look at this." She reached a gloved hand into the trunk, grabbed the mask, and held it up. "This looks familiar. That's Lexy."

"Rubber Charlene's rival doll. I don't get it. Nelson Kern was wearing the Charlene suit when he died. What's he doing with Lexy in the trunk?"

Morgan sighed. "As far as I understand, every guy only has one Rubber Doll persona. Doesn't make sense that Kern would be both Lexy and Charlene."

Sara nodded. "Okay." She turned and wheeled to the backdoor on the passenger side. She opened the door to find a crowbar, bolt cutters, and an empty takeout box. "I got a crowbar and bolt cutters. Break-in gear." She took a picture of the tools.

Morgan was on the other side of the car now. "Kern had a few priors for burglary. Taking a flier on this one, maybe, but let's just say that Nelson Kern usually stepped out at night as Lexy, the belle of the rubber ball. Until Charlene shows up, making Lexy and Kern old news. That would make Kern jealous, right?"

Sara had stood up so she could see Morgan over the car. "Jealous enough, maybe, with his history of B-and-Es to break in and steal Charlene from her owner."

"And then don Charlene for the night."

"I buy it."

Morgan's brow creased in thought. "But if we're right, then who's Charlene's owner? And where did Kern steal her from?"

Sara sat down and reached for the tools. "Maybe these will help answer that question. There's some trace in the blades. Looks like concrete powder."

* * *

Armed with the evidence from Kern's car and remembering something he'd seen when he'd visited earlier, Russell went to speak to Stan Brock again. There he discovered that Rubber Charlene's owner was Stan Brock, Charlene Brock's widower. Russell then asked Stan to come down to the station. If the theft of the suit had been the motive for murder, then the questions needed to be asked in a more formal setting.

Russell took his seat across from Mr. Brock. "Stan, you lied to me. Told me you didn't know anything about the suit."

Naturally, Stan became defensive. "My children were sitting right there. They wouldn't have understood how I… I'd clung to everything that was left of their mother."

Russell looked in the file in front of him. "Is that why you went to this, um, Belinda Goff, had her make you one of those suits?"

"I stumbled across her work online. And I sent her some pictures of Charlene. And I brought my love back to life. It wasn't just dress-up. I could feel Charlene's spirit all around me. Others could feel it, too. The presence of a special being."

"But one of the other dolls didn't appreciate that you stole the spotlight."

Stan's eyes were distant in thought. "Lexy."

Russell nodded. "Right. We found the Lexy suit. We know it belonged to a Nelson Kern. His DNA is all over it. Mr. Kern took a look at you and Charlene, and he figured that if he couldn't outshine the new girl, he'd find some way to become her. Broke into your place, he stole the suit and he took your wife out for a spin. And that cost him his life, didn't it?"

Stan looked pained to even have that theory entertained as a possibility. "Mr. Russell, much as I cherish the memory of my wife, her beauty, and wanted to possess it, I would never hurt someone else for trying to possess it too."

Russell returned to the lab, inclined to believe Stan, which meant it was time to move on to looking for another suspect, and Finn had something that might help. "I was doing some digging, and I checked police activity in the alley the night of the murders. There was a parking ticket issued to an Escalade, and the carpet fiber trace that we found on the Charlene suit is consistent with the interior of an Escalade. And the vehicle is registered to this guy."

Russell recognized the face. "I met him at the club. He's one of their admirers. Let's bring him in."

* * *

Adrian Graham was one of those vain men who believed the world revolved around him. Finn glanced at him through the window to the interrogation room. He was dressed in a high end, possibly tailored suit and examining the fingernails on his right hand quite intently. Finn would probably have to play to his vanities to get him to open up.

Finn walked into the room with a big smile on her face. "Hi, Adrian, I'm CSI Finlay. I, uh, would like to talk to you about Charlene." Finn set the folder on the table and took off her jacket. "We know she was in your vehicle. We found carpet fibers that are consistent with the interior of an Escalade on her doll suit."

Graham stopped the slide of the paper Finn had slipped toward him. "You know what it is I love about the dolls at the club? How little they speak." He looked up at Finn with swagger in his gaze. "They're as close to the ideal woman as I've ever met."

Finn grinned. "Wow." She had thought him arrogant before, but this man took that to a whole new level. "I can't imagine how you could have struck out with real woman." Finn's sarcasm was almost visibly dripping from her mouth as she took a seat on the table near him.

Graham chuckled. "Well, real women are just as fake… but lie about it."

"Well, if I were to tell you that my eyelashes are not this great…" Finn noticed his eyes wandered as he checked her out, "would you be honest with me?" The flirtation seemed to be working.

Graham smiled, considered Finn's proposal, and then nodded. "Fair enough. Charlene did join me in the vehicle. We'd been flirting with each other for the past few weeks at the club."

Finn sat up a little on the edge of the table and flipped her hair subtly. "So, tell me what happened in the car."

He shrugged. "Oh, we, uh, played around. Then she left."

Finn wasn't buying what he was selling. "With abrasions on her arms and a bite mark in her shoulder?" She leaned over to check out his teeth. "Which I bet is going to be a match to those fake veneers you got in there." The laugh she ended with should take a bit of the sting out of the insult.

Graham laughed too. "What can I say?" He shrugged. "I like rough sex. She had thick skin."

"I did my research on you, and I did find that you have a history of sexual assault."

He was still playing it smooth. "Allegations. All dropped."

"Uh-huh." Finn looked at him for a moment, no longer flirting; it was time to flip the script. "Well, you know what I think happened? I think that Charlene was so messed up that she decided to get into your car." Finn stood, walked back to her chair, and placed her hands against the table, leaning toward him. "And then when you started to hurt her, she bailed. So you followed her, 'cause you didn't like getting rejected by a blow-up doll, and then you stabbed her. Stripped off her suit, because everybody at the club knows who Charlene is, but, uh, Nelson Kern, he's a nobody."

During Finn's story of events, Graham had been getting steadily more irritated that she would have the nerve to talk about him that way. His face had lost the swagger, his neck muscles got tight, and his left hand had developed a tick. Finn didn't let up, trying to see what it would take for him to snap. Unfortunately, she reached the end of her story before he let anything slip. This smooth talker was a little tougher than she had thought.

Graham chuckled and leaned forward. "Well, the truth is…I showed her too good of a time. She couldn't contain herself. And the voice that groaned out?" He scoffed in disgust. "Deep-sixed the mood. I kicked her out and drove off." He sat back. "Am I free to go?"

Finn looked at him for a long moment more, and then walked out. Someone else would take care of that snake-tongued weasel. She smirked. He would have to take a taxi home because his car was in their garage for processing. Graham would love that. And she was going to enjoy tearing that thing apart.

* * *

**A/N: The next chapter will close out "Rubbery Homicide" and I think that with Sara's absence from this week's episode I'll be starting on another non-canon story. Stay tuned and leave a comment in the box below. Thanks!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: Two chapters in two days, that's a rarity for me. First off, I'd like to thank joann and phnxgrl for their reviews. We get to see a little more of Sara in this chapter, and I did have to flip one scene slightly, I hope you don't mind. We are starting with Sara and the items from Graham's SUV sex shop. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 9

Sara had the contents of Adrian Graham's car sex kit spread on the low table in front of her. She'd been methodically checking each item for small traces of blood while Finn checked the interior of the SUV itself. Finn had come back from interrogating Graham in a "he's-a-creep" mood, so Sara was glad to both help her out and stay out of the way. So far, none of the items had any blood on them, but there were still a couple items left to check, so she might get lucky.

Russell came through the doorway behind Sara. "Got any evidence from the suspect's SUV yet?"

Sara had grabbed a large white bottle and was about to spray it, but paused to answer Russell. "Finn is still working the carpets and upholstery, but so far we haven't found any blood. Even though Kern was stabbed outside, in the alley…"

Russell nodded. "Yeah, you would expect that Graham would have tracked some of the blood back into the vehicle."

Sara moved the bottle into spraying position. "You sure would."

Russell picked up one of the toys with a gloved hand. "What is all this lovely stuff?" The toy he'd selected was a pink feathered riding crop.

Sara looked at the contents of the table. "Well, this is Adrian Graham's mobile sex pantry. Lotions, lubes and other sinful sundries that he kept in his SUV. We found them neatly organized. I was hoping in his cleanup that he left a smear of blood behind," she sprayed the bottle of lotion, "but, uh, no such luck."

Russell noticed a different bottle as Sara put the lotion back in its place. "Excuse me a sec, here." She pulled her arm back and he grabbed the bottle of baby oil. "Baby oil. Nick found trace amounts of baby oil on the Charlene suit. Now, it's possible that… that some of this got transferred from the suit onto the assailant."

Sara looked skeptical. "I'm not sure what that gets us. Graham already admitted that he was with her. He just denies being there for the murder."

Russell nodded. "Right, but whoever the killer is, we have no indication of his movements in that alley in the moments right after the death."

Sara shook her head in agreement. "No shoeprints, no blood trail." Russell held up and shook the bottle of baby oil, a smile on his face. Sara realized what Russell was getting at and smiled too. "Oil trail could be very helpful."

* * *

They returned to the crime scene and went to the spot where Kern had been murdered. While they were in the car on their way, Sara had changed the settings on the ALS flashlights so they would show oil through the viewing filter and not biologicals. She had one ALS in her lap and Russell had the other. With any luck, this experiment would give them a trail to follow.

"Baby oil fluoresces at a lower frequency than biologicals," She turned her ALS on, "so I've set the ALS's at 525 nanometers."

Russell turned his on as well and they shined the lights in the same direction. "There's a lot of oil here, where the body was."

"Uh-huh."

D.B. moved his light a little and noticed something. "Oh, there you go. Trail of oil going off in this direction."

Side by side, Sara and Russell started following the trail. "Oily part of the suit must have been dragged along."

The oil trail led them down the alley. A few yards beyond the spot where Kern had died, the trail started heading toward the garage door of a home backing the alley. Sara stopped in front of the door and Russell continued a couple steps more to see the trail meet the wall below a circuit box. The oil was smeared on the wall below the box.

"Huh, brushed the wall here." Russell panned his light up the trail. Sara pulled out a flashlight and shined it on the box. Russell reached a gloved hand up and took something from the top of the box. "It's the murder weapon."

Sara looked up at Russell, her flashlight shining on the object he was holding. "It's a nail file." She took it from his hands to get a closer look. "Consistent with the wounds that Doc Robbins found. Sharp-pointed but square-edged."

Russell shone his flashlight on the file. "See this logo right here? That's the Brock family modeling agency."

Sara handed the file back to Russell. "Murder with a corporate sponsor."

* * *

Finn selected a photo from the file in front of her. "We pulled a fingerprint off the weapon, Jonah." She placed the picture of his print on the handle of the nail file in front of Jonah Brock. "And it's yours."

He looked at the photo for a moment. "The weapon is one of twenty I gifted friends of our agency at the memorial after my mom died." Finn was looking unconvinced, so Jonah continued. "It was a gesture in her honor."

Finn didn't believe him. "Really? A nail file as a tribute?"

"It was kind of her thing. Those dealing with Charlene Brock knew that if she started working on her cuticles… she wasn't happy, and you better make her happy. I gave the file out as a memento. My prints might be on every one of 'em"

Finn tossed her hair. "You know, I might buy that… had I not learned about another file." She flipped to a different page in her folder. "Your recent motion to remove your father as head of the modeling agency." Finn set a small stack of papers in front of Charlene's son.

It was clear on his face that he didn't really want to discuss this. "Uh… the company started slipping after my mom died. She was the guts, the- the cutthroat, the whip that my dad needed. And after she died, I noticed that he started slipping. Professionally and otherwise."

Finn nodded. "You knew about his Rubber Dolling. I think you… talk about it in your statement." She reached for the papers in front of Jonah.

He jumped in. "Hey. Yeah, I knew all about that. I saw a few of his selfies when I borrowed his laptop one day." Jonah paused, then tried to be dismissive. "Hey, whatever the old man needs to get his kicks." He shrugged. "But… if a rival photo agency pops a picture of him in his… costume… everything that he and my mom built goes away."

Finn saw more than just his concern for the agency. "Instead of going to you." Jonah sat up, his eyes cold to deflect her accusation. "The board shut you down, which left you only one other way to take your dad out of the picture. You just didn't know that the wrong man was in the suit."

He chuckled and leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "Ms. Finlay, I didn't stab anyone, and I'll prove it to you. I spent the night of the crime producing a photo shoot, and I spent the rest of the evening in the company of one of the models." Finn nodded, sure that any of the models at the agency would alibi him to keep her job. Jonah must have seen her disbelief, because he threw in the kicker. "I have video."

* * *

Nick watched the video confirming Jonah Brock's alibi. Partway through, Greg came in and informed him that DNA on the nail file came back to an unknown female with trace that Hodges had identified as bits of gold. Nick scrolled to a point of the video where the nails of the model Jonah had been with were clearly visible. The model's nails had gold nail polish on them. The team found out who the model was and contacted her for some information. It turned out that the model's nails had been filed by the assistant at the photo shoot.

This brought Russell back to the Brock residence. "Ms. Irina Turri. You remember her, right?" He dropped the photo of Irina with Jonah in front of April Brock. "Now, she's back in Helsinki right now. We couldn't bring her in, but we talked to her on the phone, and she said that her nails were filed by the assistant at the photo shoot. That would be you, right, April?"

A great poker face must be genetic in this family. April sat on the couch with Russell standing above her with her eyes wide, but cold and detached. The evidence and motive were coming together and yet she sat there as though remaining mute would make it go away.

Russell wasn't easily detoured. "That same file found its way into Nelson Kern's neck."

"I already told you I didn't know that man. Why would I stab him?"

Russell took a seat. "Well, because you weren't stabbing him, were you? You were stabbing your mother. And your father."

Her eyes were pleading. "I love my father. I was the one who defended him when my brother tried to destroy him." Anger had crept into her voice.

"Right." Russell flipped a page in her notebook. "The business deposition, right? You painted your dad as having… suffered under your mother's tyranny. It's quite a eulogy for your… for your mom."

April shrugged. "It was the truth. Dad and I always stood by each other, ever since I was a kid, every time my mom would…" she trailed off, the painful memory stuck in her throat.

Russell tried to prompt her. "Would… would what?"

April glared at Russell. "If you didn't live up to my mother's expectations, she would crush you. And I guess the perfect daughter that she wanted wasn't me, so… it's hard enough to see that in your mom's eyes. It's harder when she…" April closed her eyes before she continued, "starts taking it out on you."

Russell nodded. "I can see that. So when your… when your mother passed away, you must have felt like you were…" he sighed, "free of her cruelty. Your dad was free, too."

She wasn't about to accept Russell's pity. "We'd survived. We were done with her."

"Only your father didn't want to be. He still loved her. He loved your mother. He loved her so much he wanted to bring her back to life." April was starting to show her emotions, so Russell kept pushing. "See, I think that was a betrayal that you just… you couldn't live with. Could you?"

Emotion choked her voice. "I would have ignored it. Pretended like I didn't know about the locked room, the suit. What I saw when I followed him that night…" She spoke about the club and what she'd seen there. "You know, as ghastly as it was I could have forgiven him. But then he made his choice." Whatever the choice was, she couldn't hold in her anger with it.

"What choice?"

April hesitated, a tear slipping from her eye. She brushed it away and took the plunge. "Four days ago, I-I turned thirty. The only person in the world I wanted to celebrate with was Dad, and then he called," she was crying now, the tears falling unchecked from her eyes, "and said he didn't feel well and he needed to cancel. And I could hear the club music in the background."

"He chose your mother over you. Again. Then what happened? You go out, follow her into the alley? You wait for her to be alone?"

She was shaking her head. She didn't want to talk about it, but the story eventually tumbled out. Russell listened patiently, only speaking when April stopped. She spoke of the Escalade driving off; of waiting for Charlene to pass so she could attack from behind. Of watching the body stop moving. How she took off the mask.

"Then you realized your mistake. Why did you rip off the suit?"

April's eyes looked into the distance as the memory filler her mind. "I had to throw her away."

* * *

Sara was signing for a package when Russell returned to the lab. "How'd it go?"

He sighed. "She confessed. PD are booking her now. What's this for?"

Sara smiled. "This is for my kit." The delivery guy took the clipboard back and left. "I figured it would be better to have it delivered here so I could use it right away."

"Judging from the box, some assembly might be necessary."

Sara nodded. "Yeah. I think Nick is setting up a table in the garage."

Russell picked up the box. "Well, let's not keep him waiting, shall we?"

Sara led the way. "You guys help me put this together, breakfast is on me."

"It's a deal."

* * *

**A/N: Due to the quick posting, it will be a few days before the next chapter is posted. This next set of chapters will be AU a bit (meaning no episode to guide the narrative). In the interim, I would be so grateful to get as many reviews as possible (it might inspire me to write faster, hint, hint). Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank phnxgirl, joann, mt6shock, and LichMaster701 for their reviews. joann: I will attempt to put Finn and Sara in more scenes together. mt6shock: I love the episodes where a particular character is in trouble and the team rallies around that character. It just makes sense that they would do the same in this situation too. LichMaster701: Welcome to the story, and I'm glad you are enjoying it!**

**This set of chapters is not from the show and took a surprising amount of time to write. With that in mind, I apologize for the weeklong absence from posting and hope you enjoy this chapter!**

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Chapter 10

Sara pulled at her desk, trying to scoot the office chair in. Her doctor had said transitioning from one chair to another helped improve circulation, so Sara was trying out the desk chair for the first time. Maybe that structure over her desk wouldn't be such a bad thing after all.

Nick walked in. "Need some help?"

Sara pulled a face; she didn't want help, but she was stuck without it. "Yes. Thank you." He pushed her chair in. "You still have that sketch for the structure?"

Nick chuckled. "Should I be taking that as a yes?"

She smiled. "Yeah. The other option is one of those mats that make it easy to roll a desk chair, but then I wouldn't be able to make the transition."

He sat at his desk. "I'll get to work on it."

Ecklie walked in. "Uh, Nick, could you give me and Sara a minute?"

Nick and Sara glanced at each other, Nick's face showing concern for his colleague. "Sure. I think Hodges should have my results by now."

Ecklie shut the door after Nick. "Sara, I'm not sure how to say this."

Sara didn't like where this was going. "What's going on?"

"You're going to have to undergo a review. I was hoping we could avoid this, but I don't have a choice now."

"I thought my work was still where it should be?"

Ecklie sat on the edge of Finn's desk. "It's not something I wanted to call in. I mean, you've been back for two months, your work is as good as always."

"So why?"

"One of the first cases you worked when you came back. The defense is trying to get the evidence you collected thrown out." Ecklie crossed his arms. "I'm hoping that a review team can set the precedent, make it impossible for the defense to use your... disability... as a way to get evidence thrown out."

"And what happens when the review team agrees with the defense?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there." Ecklie looked at Sara. "I have every confidence that you'll be fine. They arrive at the end of the week. I just wanted to give you a heads up."

Sara turned her head away from him to conceal the tear threatening to fall. "Thanks."

Ecklie stood and left. Sara blinked rapidly to try and get rid of the tear, her lower lip trembling. Russell had assured her that her job was safe. Now Ecklie was calling in a review team as a preemptive strike against the attempts by a defense lawyer to have the evidence she collected called into question.

Finn walked in. "Hey, Sara, did Henry give you the results for…" She noticed Sara's face. "What happened? What's wrong?"

Sara took a deep breath and sighed. "Ecklie just told me he's called in a review team. Wants to set a precedent."

"What? Why?"

Sara looked at her hands while Finn took her seat. "It's because of one of the first cases I worked after…" She waved a hand at herself to demonstrate what she meant. "Apparently the defense is arguing that I mishandled evidence because of my injury."

Finn's eyes conveyed her concern. "Sara, I'm sorry."

Sara gave a forced smile and shook her head. "He thinks I'll be fine. I- I'm not so sure. I mean... they're not going to understand what this is like."

Finn nodded. "But their job isn't to understand, it's to assess whether you can do your job according to regulation. I'm with Ecklie, you've got this. When do they arrive?"

"End of the week."

"It's okay to be nervous, but that can't change how you work." Finn rolled her chair closer to Sara and put a hand on her shoulder. "I'll be at your side the whole time if you want."

Sara looked up at Finn and smiled. "That'd be nice."

* * *

The next four days seemed very stressful to Sara. At every crime scene, she was hyper aware of everything she did. By now, everyone was aware of the upcoming review. They could see the stress Sara was under and tried to be as encouraging as possible. Nick had finished putting together the structure and it had made all the difference in her ability to work at a desk, which helped to relieve some stress, but not all. He had also designed it to double as a shelf for storage above the bars she used to adjust her position at her desk. He had also added a footrest to her desk chair so she wouldn't drag her feet every time she swiveled her chair.

Sara was finishing her report on the latest crime scene she'd worked when Russell called her into his office. "You wanted to see me?"

Russell nodded. "Yes, yes, come in. I just got a text from Ecklie. Two members of the review team just called to inform him they'd touched down. They'll be here soon. Are you ready?"

Sara shrugged. "Do I have much of a choice?"

Russell smiled. "No, no, not really."

"Do we know who they are, where they're from?"

"No. Ecklie didn't say. I'm sure you'll be fine though."

Sara looked down. "I'm nervous. Reviews like this don't have a good reputation, no matter what lab you're at. I should know. This," she gestured to herself, "is because of the ruling we made on one."

Russell nodded slowly. "Yeah, but, not every review ends the way Cliff Ballard's did. That only happens when the CSI under review has committed a crime. You're being evaluated to make sure the wheelchair doesn't affect your ability to follow regulation."

"And you think I'll be fine."

"I do." His phone buzzed with a text. "Oh, that was fast. They're at the front desk." He stood and headed out the door.

Sara followed him out. "I'll try to be nice."

Russell chuckled as they headed down the hall. Two people were standing by the reception desk, clipping visitors' badges to their blazers. The woman was tall with mid-length brown hair and a number of bracelets on her right wrist. The man was a few inches shorter with dirty blonde hair and a more relaxed style. Both had a small carry-on bag sitting next to their feet.

D.B. looked delighted to see them. "New York's finest. I didn't know you were coming." He shook hands with both of them.

The woman's smile was big and warm, her Alabama accent making it seem like your favorite aunt was visiting. "D.B., so good to see you again."

The man nodded to the supervisor, his Brooklyn accent strong. "How you doin'?"

Sara had no idea who they were. "Uh, Russell? You know them?"

He moved so they could all see each other. "Right, where are my manners? Jo Danville and Danny Messer from the New York Crime Lab. You know their boss, Mac Taylor."

Recognition spread across Sara's face. "Oh, nice to meet you. How's Christine?"

Jo smiled. "She's doing great, thanks to your help. Mac and Christine are actually married now."

"Wow. Tell them congratulations."

"I will. You must be Sara Sidle."

Sara and Jo shook hands. "I am."

Ecklie walked in as Danny and Sara shook hands. "Oh, good, you found it. The others will be here in about an hour. You can leave your bags in the break room if you like."

Danny and Jo picked up their travel bags. "Lead the way, boss."

When the two visitors were out of earshot, Sara turned to Russell. "You've spent time with them. What are they like?"

Russell smiled. "You have nothing to worry about. With those two on the review team, you're going to be fine."

* * *

The other three CSIs that made up the review team arrived only 45 minutes later. Ecklie briefed them all on the main purpose of the review in the break room. Soon after that meeting wrapped, a case came in. Russell paired Sara with Morgan and promised that Finn would assist them after she returned from a B and E case with Nick.

The CSIs from New York were going to observe this scene. Morgan stored the wheelchair behind Sara and the two observers had to share the tight space left over. Sara buckled up, still nervous about this whole thing. Morgan shot Sara a reassuring smile and drove the group to the scene. Detective Crawford was already there, waiting for them by the police tape.

Crawford approached while Sara transitioned to her chair. "Victim's name is Karen Stewart, 34. She was found by a woman out walking her dog. Dog suddenly wanted to go down the alley, owner let him lead, found the victim next to the dumpster and called it in."

Morgan attached Sara's kit holder to the chair. "Is David here yet?" She slid Sara's kit into the basket.

"Yeah, he arrived a couple minutes ago."

Sara propelled her chair forward. "Let's see what we got."

Morgan grabbed her own kit. "After you."

Crawford held up his hand to stop the CSIs from New York. "Who are they?"

Sara pointed to each of the visitors to introduce them. "Jo Danville, Danny Messer; they're with the New York Crime Lab and they are here to observe me. Ecklie didn't tell you?"

His phone buzzed with a text. "He has now." He put it away. "Sorry, guys. I didn't know."

Jo smiled and went to shake his hand. "That's quite alright. We'll stay out of your way."

The group continued into the alley to meet with David Phillips. "Hey, David. What do we have?"

He looked up at them. "Hey, Sara. Meet Karen Stewart. C.O.D. might be the stab wounds to her back. There's not much blood here though."

"So dump job." Sara swiveled her kit basket to the left so it was next to her. She pulled the kit out of the basket, rotated the basket so it became a table, and set her kit on it. She opened the kit and took out her camera. "Do you have an estimate for how long she's been dead?"

David shook his head. "I have a liver temp, but it was very cold last night, so it'll take a little math."

Sara smirked. "I like math. Shoot me the numbers."

"Okay. It is," he checked his watch, "5:24am right now. Liver temp is 75°, current ambient temp is 42°, and last night got down to about 39°."

Sara looked up in thought. "Well, the average human body loses about one point five degrees Celsius of body heat per hour, factor in the changing temperatures and she's been dead approximately eleven and a half to fourteen hours. That would put T.O.D. between 3:30 and 7pm yesterday."

"Very nice." David held up one of Stewart's hands. "Fingerprints were sliced through; maybe trying to conceal her identity?"

Morgan stopped taking pictures of the crime scene. "How do we know her name then?"

Crawford held up an evidence bag with a purse inside. "Her ID was found in the dumpster right over there."

"So he's not very smart."

Sara took some photos of the victim's fingertips. "Seems odd that they would dump her ID near the body when they cut up her fingertips to prevent us from IDing her."

Morgan turned to Sara. "Maybe her fingertips getting sliced wasn't on purpose. Maybe it was from something else."

David shook his head. "I don't think so; the cuts are very precise."

Sara went over to Crawford. "Can I see the ID?" The Detective handed it over. "New York driver's license. She wasn't local." She turned to the observers. "You're from New York. Any insights?"

Jo took the evidence bag from Sara and held it up. "The ID looks real, but we've been coming across some really good fakes back home. I'd have to take a closer look to see if this is one of them."

Danny took out his phone to send a text. "I'll have my wife run the name; forward what she finds to your lab."

Sara looked at the victim. "Who are you?"

* * *

**A/N: ****I have a question for you all. The episode last night (Dead Rails) had very little of Sara in it. Should I adapt it anyway or skip it? Comment below with your recommendation or PM me so I know what you want me to do. Thanks!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank joann, mt6shock, phnxgrl, and Dee for their reviews. mt6shock: you're going to have to explain the gsr part of your comment; I'm still not very familiar with the fanfiction slang for CSI. Dee: Yes, I did. Right now, I'm writing up the chapter where they get to talk about it a little. This chapter starts a few minutes after the last one ended. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 11

Finn arrived ten minutes after David transported the body back to the morgue. "So, what'd I miss?"

"Victim's name may be Karen Stuart, 34. Her finger tips were sliced up and her ID was dumped in the trash a few feet away." Morgan knelt down, snapped a picture of something under the dumpster, and pulled it out with a gloved hand. "And maybe this is what did the slicing."

Finn was gloving up. "A straight razor."

Sara was collecting a swab from where the victim had been resting. "That would do the trick." She capped the cotton swab and slipped it in the labeled box.

Morgan turned to Sara. "I don't have a knife tube on me, but there should be some in the SUV."

Sara took off her gloves. "Toss me the keys." Morgan tossed the keys to Sara. She set them in her lap, put her kit in the traveling position, and headed to the car. Danville followed her. Sara hit the unlock button when she got close and pulled the latch to raise the door. The Mobile Crime Scene Analysis Unit made it easy to have most of the things they'd need to properly examine a crime scene. The kits they used on the scene had a few sizes of evidence baggies on hand, but the SUV housed the larger bags, tubes, and boxes they might need for the larger pieces of evidence they might come across.

Sara parked herself in front of the open hatch, moved her kit basket to the left, and "stood up" so she could reach everything. Danville was impressed. "I didn't know there were wheelchairs that could do that."

Sara smirked as she opened the bin holding the tubes. "Yeah, it's helped a lot so far." She set the plastic-wrapped tube on the edge of the trunk and sat down again. "I don't have to rely on everyone doing everything for me."

"I was wondering how you got in the car. Danny and I were on the wrong side to see."

Sara hit the button to automatically close the back door, the tube on her lap. "It took us a week to figure out the best method. Now it's easy."

They started back to Morgan. "I saw how you get out of the car. Are you able to drive at all?"

Sara shook her head. "No, I don't have a modified car yet. I'm looking into it though. Until then, everyone takes turns picking me up for work."

"And the basket for your kit, when the chair is collapsed, that has to be removed every time?"

"Yeah, the company that made the basket didn't send a hinged counterweight like I'd ordered. I hope it comes soon." She unwrapped the tube and handed it to Morgan.

"Thank you." Morgan slipped the razor into the tube and taped the cap in place. "It looks like there's a little blood on it."

Finn was panning her flashlight over the crime scene. "Where you found it says it was discarded in a hurry."

Morgan set the tube on her open kit. "I'm getting mixed signals about the killer. They cut her fingertips, presumably to conceal her identity, but they leave her ID and a straight razor at the crime scene. It doesn't make sense."

Finn had switched to the ALS. "Whoa. When did the victim die?"

"Between 3:30 and 7 yesterday, why?"

"Was she wet?"

Sara and Morgan looked at each other. "Not that I recall, why?"

"Put on your filter glasses. You need to see this."

Sara and Morgan put on their orange UV Filter Glasses. "Oh, that's a lot of blood."

Morgan nodded. "We had assumed that she'd been dumped here. This might actually be our primary."

Finn moved the ALS, following the flow of blood. "The killer probably used a hose to clean up the crime scene."

Sara noticed a faucet for a hose. "There's a spigot here. Could be where they hooked up the hose."

"Get a sample of the water for comparison." Finn swabbed the wall, and tested it for blood. "Positive for blood."

Sara dusted the tap for prints. "I got a partial print here." She photographed it and then lifted it. "Maybe the killer forgot to wipe the handle."

Finn grabbed her kit. "I'm going to set up for some ALS photos of the wall."

Morgan smiled. "Then the Blood Whisperer can really do her thing."

"You know it."

Sara closed the tap when the container of water was full enough. "This water is pretty dirty; should be easy enough to match it to any residue left behind on the wall or the victim's body."

Morgan's phone buzzed. "Nick and Greg are busy, so Doc wants us to help with the prelim evidence collection."

Finn had returned with the equipment she would need. "You should go then. I can finish up here."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, not a problem."

Sara sealed the bag on the water container. "See you back at the lab."

* * *

In the morgue, Danville and Messer were relieved by a CSI from Chicago and another from Denver. The CSI from Chicago was a tall African American man named Louis Andrews. He had the kind of handshake that made you instantly trust him. The CSI from Denver was a tiny woman named Margaret Lance. She had a wide smile and would shake your hand with both of hers.

Sara introduced the pair to Doc, who quickly made sure to tell them to stand along the wall and not touch anything. Morgan and Sara got to work. Sara started with getting the victim's fingerprints. It didn't really matter that the prints were cut; it just meant they would have to reassemble them in the computer.

Morgan carefully removed the victim's clothing with David and Sara's help. Each piece was laid on a large piece of butcher paper, rolled up in the paper, and placed in large paper evidence bags. The back of each item of clothing had more visible blood than the front, supporting Finn's theory that the crime scene had been hosed down. They also discovered just how many stab wounds Stewart had in her back.

Sara took a photo. "That looks like it was painful."

Morgan looked up. "I've already counted fifteen stab wounds."

"That says rage. This may have been personal." Sara collected a few swabs from some of the wounds and one from the inside of her mouth for Henry to run DNA.

Doc came back in. "Is she ready?"

Morgan nodded. "You can take over."

Sara rotated the handles back on her chair. "You'll call when you're done?"

"By then, you'll be off shift. Just come in right after you've clocked in tonight."

"You got it, Doc."

The group left the morgue and headed back upstairs to the lab to see that Finn was just getting back from the crime scene. Sara was feeling a bit better about this review now. The team members were asking questions about her chair and how the kit basket worked. She had to admit that unlike the review teams she'd been a part of in the past, this one really was just to see how well she could do her job now.

Russell was coming out of the office Sara shared with her colleagues. "There you are, Sara. A package arrived for you." He handed her a small box.

She recognized the return address. "Ah, this must be the counterweight. I hope they got it right this time."

Russell turned to the observers. "Grave shift just ended a few minutes ago, so you should probably go collect your bags and head to your hotels. Thanks for coming, and make sure you get some sleep. We start up again at eleven tonight."

Andrews and Lance nodded, shook hands with Sara, Russell and Morgan, and headed for the break room. Sara went into the office and opened the package. As she'd hoped, it was the part she'd been waiting for. Morgan helped Sara detach the basket from the chair. Sara grabbed her toolkit and got to work removing the current counterweight so she could replace it with the new one.

Jo Danville knocked on the door frame, her carry-on in hand. "We're heading out; see you tonight."

Sara looked up. "Okay, see you then."

Danville noticed the part in Sara's hands. "I take it the new counterweight came in?"

Sara nodded and tightened the screws to attach it. "Yeah, it just arrived this morning."

"Well, enjoy your… I almost said night. Morning, I guess."

Sara smiled. "Day shift at home?"

"For the most part. We're on call too." She turned to leave, then turned back. "Danny and I were going to get some breakfast before we turned in. Know any good spots?"

Morgan put her purse over her shoulder. "Walk me to the door and I'll give you directions to three of my favorites."

"Sounds good." Jo waved to Sara. "Bye for now."

Sara tested the counter weight. "Take care."

Finn walked in. "Review team headed out?"

Sara locked the hinge back in place, satisfied that it looked like it would work. "Yeah. Morgan's giving the CSIs from New York a few breakfast spots to go to."

"Need help putting that on?"

Sara handed the attachment to Finn. "Sure."

Finn put the basket on the back support of Sara's wheelchair. "Let's see how it works."

Sara locked her brakes, unlocked the counterweight hinge, and stood up. Now the basket for her kit remained in its traveling position and she could still be upright. She smiled at the improvement and rotated the handles backward to return to a sitting position again.

"That helps a lot."

"Your chair should be a lot more convenient to transport now." Finn grabbed her purse and keys. "Ready to head out?"

Sara locked the hinge and unlocked her wheels. "Let's go."

Finn's car required less effort to get in and out than the SUVs did. On the way home, Finn filled Sara in on the evidence she'd collected after Morgan and Sara had left the scene. Sara told Finn about the other two CSIs who'd observed her in the morgue. At this point she'd only been introduced to the fifth member of the review team; he was quiet man whose face didn't betray much. Sara wasn't even sure where he came from.

Finn pulled the wheelchair out of the trunk when they got to Sara's house. "I was right. Having the basket stay attached is so much easier now."

Sara grabbed her legs and swung them out of the car. "That's the idea."

Finn brought the wheelchair to the passenger door and Sara made the transition. "You got it from here?"

Sara nodded. "As always. Thanks for the ride."

"Of course. I think Greg is getting you tonight."

"Okay. See you later." Sara rolled up the driveway, unlocked her front door, and waved to Finn. Finn waved back and drove off. Sara reached up, typed in the alarm code, and closed the door behind her. She could really use a nice hot bath right about now.

* * *

**A/N: At the end of the l****ast chapter, I put an inquiry out to my readers and got mixed results. So far I have one for adapting the episode, one for not, and one that is mostly no. I'm going to leave the question up for others to weigh in on it before I decide. The question is: The latest episode (Dead Rails) had very little of Sara in it. Should I adapt it anyway or skip it? Comment below with your recommendation or PM me so I know what you want me to do. Thanks for your input!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank phnxgrl, Guest, joann, mt6shock, and Dee for their reviews. mt6shock: Thanks for the clarification. Guest: I'm a little confused what you meant by "what are you comfortable with?" I could go either way on the episode; I was wanting to see what the readers wanted. joann: Are we shipping them together, or just more interaction between the two? Dee: This is the chapter.**

**This chapter is a little longer than previous chapters. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 12

Sleep was still awkward more than six months after her paralysis. Before, if she wanted to change her position in her sleep, she would just do so. Now she'd wake up every time because her legs didn't move on their own. Most days weren't so bad. On the days where her body was just exhausted, she would fall asleep and stay in the same position most of the afternoon. Today wasn't one of those day. Sara groaned when she woke up again.

Sara sat up, moved her legs, and lay down again. "Come on sleep, where are you?"

She stared at the ceiling for a long time. Her mind wandered immediately to the review. She was sure that her inability to sleep was caused by more than just her paralysis. She was also stressed by the review. It seemed to be going well, but looks could be deceiving. There was still one reviewer that hadn't watched her in the field or the lab. She was worried that this one would be the troublemaker for her.

By the time her alarm went off, Sara was already getting dressed. She had gotten a few more hours of interrupted sleep. Sara finished getting ready for the night shift and rolled out to the kitchen. She prepared a quick breakfast, packed a lunch to take to work and then ate her breakfast while listening to a CD Morgan had given her while she was in the hospital. It was a collection of songs that were apparently popular right now. Sara smiled; almost three years ago, Morgan, Sara, and Finn had embarked on a spa trip that had not gone well. While at a karaoke bar, Sara had revealed that she didn't know who Beyoncé was. Morgan had taken it upon herself to educate Sara on popular music ever since.

Sara rinsed her bowl and put it in the dishwasher. Some of the music Morgan had included on the disk was actually quite good. That didn't mean she could always name who was singing each piece. Sara grabbed her bag and went to the window to watch for Greg. A car pulled up outside and stopped. The driver's side door opened and Hodges stepped out. Sara was confused, and went out to find out what was going on.

"Hey, Hodges. What are you doing here?"

Hodges opened the trunk. "I'm here to take you to work."

Sara set the house alarm and locked up. "I thought Greg was getting me."

"He was, but a case came in and he was closest. Do you have a problem with that?"

Sara smiled. "No, that's fine. Just took me by surprise is all." She parked her chair by the passenger door and transitioned to the seat.

Hodges collapsed the chair and stored it in the trunk. She settled in and he got in the driver's seat. "Buckle up."

Sara's belt was already sliding home. "I think I got it already."

"I know. I just always say that when someone is in the car with me. It makes me feel like I've done my part to keep everyone safe."

Sara smiled at Hodges. "Not a bad habit to have."

The rest of the ride was uneventful. They talked about the case and how the review was going. It sounded like the last reviewer had spent his time talking to all her colleagues while she was out in the field or the morgue. Hodges told her that he didn't like this Reginald Fowler; he was the kind of guy who would take things out of context if given half the chance.

"I told him about the ramp in the layout room, and he made it sound like we'd added a tripping hazard in there." Hodges shook his head. "Just be careful when you talk to him. He has Grissom's silent wisdom vibe at first blush, but then he opens his mouth and all I can think about is a lawyer who eats snake venom for inspiration."

"Thanks for the warning."

Morgan was waiting at the front desk when Sara rolled in. "Finn's trying to reconstruct the blood patterns in the garage, and Doc is ready for us downstairs." She looked up. "Thanks, Hodges."

"Happy to help. I should see if your trace results are done yet."

Sara matched her speed to Morgan's gait. "Who's watching us now?"

"Danny Messer and Reginald Fowler. Should be interesting."

"So, you know which lab he's from?"

"Fowler? I think he said Iowa."

"Iowa?"

Morgan hit the button to call the elevator and the doors opened right away. "I looked it up; the crime lab in Iowa is in Ankeny. That's a suburb of Des Moines with a population of about 51,000."

The doors opened on the basement floor which housed the morgue. David Phillips was just putting on his white lab coat and waved to them before heading into the autopsy room. Morgan and Sara paused long enough to put on their own. Just inside the swinging doors, it sounded like Doc was in a heated discussion with a voice that Sara didn't recognize. Danny's Brooklyn accent broke in to try and calm things down a bit. Sara and Morgan looked at each other and then pushed through the doors.

Doc was looking a little upset as he turned his back on Fowler. "This is my morgue. I'm going to run it the way I see fit, not how you want me to. You might have convinced the CSIs and Coroner back home that things should be done in a way to accommodate your OCD, but in Vegas I do what works best for me. Get used to it."

Fowler crossed his arms and noticed that Sara and Morgan were in the room. "Took you long enough to get down here."

Morgan turned to the unpleasant investigator. "We didn't want to interrupt your lively debate."

Sara shot Morgan a furtive grin and wheeled over to the autopsy table. "What can you tell us, Doc?"

"I heard that Morgan counted fifteen stab wounds this morning. Under the blood, that's what it looked like, but once I got her cleaned up, I noticed that a couple of them were actually two stab wounds on top of each other. That would make seventeen stab wounds in total."

Sara locked her wheels and stood up. "How common is it to overlap stab wounds?"

Doc pointed the two he'd noticed. "In an attack like this, quite common actually. Notice how the stab wounds are close together?"

Morgan leaned down to take a closer look. "I didn't notice the grouping before. It actually looks like two groupings maybe."

"You're exactly right. Wound angles confirm it. There were two attackers and they both used their own weapons."

Sara had noticed the difference in wound size. "One blade was narrower than the other."

"I already told Finn so she could get started on her scene reconstruction. The attacker on the left was between 6' and 6'5" and the one on the right was between 5'6" and 5'11" which would explain the differences in angle."

Sara nodded. "What can you tell us about the knives?"

"As you said, one was narrower than the other. Both were approximately six inches in length. The one used in this grouping," he indicated the group of wounds on Stewart's left side, "left some sort of blue trace in the wounds. I sent a swab to Hodges. He was also left handed."

Morgan's brow creased. "How can you tell that?"

"The wounds point toward the victim's center. You only see that with a lefty, when the location of the wounds is on a victim's left side."

"What about the other group of wounds?"

"He was right handed. The angle of penetration was also toward the victim's center." Doc nodded to David and the two turned Stewart onto her back. "I noticed some bruising on her torso when I came in today."

Sara glanced behind her to the drawers. "The cold brought them to the surface?"

Doc nodded. "Yeah. That tells me that the bruises were perimortem. She was held under the arms and punched a few times on her face and stomach. She also has bruises near the shoulders on her arms."

Morgan nodded. "She was held up by the perps as they stabbed her."

Sara pointed to the victim's hands. "What about her fingertips? Would those injuries be consistent with a straight razor?"

Doc shook his head. "No, those injuries are more consistent with a serrated blade. There are signs of slight tearing if you look at them under the magnifier." In the background, Danny laughed. "Something the matter?"

Danny shook his head. "No, it's just you remind me of the M.E. back home. You probably know him, too. Sid Hammerback?"

Doc nodded. "Yes, we've met. Is he still working?"

Danny nodded. "Yeah, retiring soon though. We'll miss him."

"Tell him I said hi."

"Will do. Sorry for interrupting."

Sara turned back to Doc. "Anything else we should know?"

Doc shook his head. "I don't have more just yet. I'll take sub dermal photos of her bruises and send them up to you as soon as I have them."

"Any chance for prints?" Morgan grinned hopefully.

"No, I'm assuming she was clothed where they held her. Maybe you'll have better luck with that."

The group of four got into the elevator and went back up to the lab. Fowler had seemed like a master of the poker face yesterday, but today he was a bit upset. Maybe that had to do with the argument with Doc, but Sara was getting some majorly hostile vibes from him. They exited the elevator and Fowler grabbed the back of her chair.

Sara turned her head to look at him. "Please let go."

Fowler let go. "I have some questions for you."

Sara turned her chair to see him better. "Go ahead."

"What makes you think you belong here now that you can't do anything without assistance?"

"Excuse me?"

Danny put a hand out. "Hey, man, maybe you should save your questions for when you're not still angry."

"Don't tell me when to ask questions. Tell me why you belong here."

Sara glanced to Morgan. "I've been a CSI with this lab for over ten years. Yes, I need a little assistance now, but this chair does most of that and the people in this lab have done everything they could to make sure I could stay. Why I belong here isn't even what you're supposed to be evaluating. You're here to see if I can still follow regulations."

Fowler smirked. "You can't. Regulations were designed for people who can walk; people who can use their legs. You can't, so you can't follow regulation. This is a waste of my time. I know how you got paralyzed. You walked right into a trap set for you and paid the price. No one was there to watch your back. They didn't care about you then, and they don't care now. You shouldn't have come back."

Sara's breathing had become rapid and she had to almost literally bite her tongue to stop herself from retorting. Fowler's words cut deep. Whoever said "sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never hurt me" had never truly been on the receiving end of words like these. Sara rolled away from Fowler to stop herself from saying something that would get her fired. Behind her, she could hear Morgan start to lay into him about his comments about how Sara's coworkers didn't care, until Danny told her to save it for later.

Fowler smirked when he noticed Sara had shown him her back. "That's right, **run** away!"

Danny found Sara in her office a few minutes later. "You shouldn't hide from him. He's just a big bully."

"I didn't want to say something I'd regret. It's not like any of you understand what this is like. Having to change just about everything in your life to make it easier to deal with not being able to walk or climb up a ladder or just go up a flight of stairs. You don't get it."

"Actually, I do."

Sara scoffed. "I seriously doubt that."

"I've been in your shoes. Literally. This was almost six years back. I was with my coworkers at a bar when a drive-by shooter opened fire on the place. One of the bullets struck me in the back, glanced off my spine. I was in a wheelchair for close to seven months."

"And now you can walk. How?"

"My injury wasn't permanent. I had a lot of inflammation and there was some damage to my vertebra, but the spinal cord was mostly unharmed in the long run. It took a lot of effort." He smiled. "I wasn't very pleasant to be around during that time. When I finally got out of that damn chair, it still took almost a year for the inflammation to go down all the way and for everything to go back to normal. I still have moments when I can't feel my toes, but for the most part I'm fine."

Sara looked down. "You were lucky."

"I was. How about you? Any chance of walking again?"

She shook her head. "No, my injury is permanent. The bullet transected my spine between T12 and L1. I'm told I'm lucky that only my legs were affected."

"But you don't feel lucky. Yeah, my doctor was the same. He said, 'you're lucky that your spine was only grazed by the bullet.' Let me tell ya, I didn't feel lucky. Then he told me I had a ten percent chance of walking again. I was so angry about the whole thing. I blamed the world, hated the way people looked at me. I realize now that the looks I thought I was getting were in my head." He paused. "You seem much more adjusted right now. How long have you been in the chair?"

"It's been about eight months. I've been back in the lab for two."

"How'd you make the adjustment so well?"

"I think it had a lot to do with the rehab center I was at, especially this one group therapist. She noticed during one session that I was in my own little world. Greg had come to visit and he said I'd be back on my feet in no time. I didn't react well, but during group I couldn't stop thinking about that. I'd decided to call him and apologize by the end of the meeting."

Danny had taken a seat. "She stopped you from calling?"

"No, she actually told me that I wasn't the only person affected by this. Everyone I cared about and shared my life with was affected. They were having to try and adjust their way of thinking to what I could and couldn't do, just like I was. She told me that I needed to cut the people around me some slack for unconscious insults and accept help when it was offered." Sara shrugged. "I don't know. It stuck with me and I've been trying to keep that in mind ever since."

Danny nodded. "You had a better therapist than I did. Mine just kept telling me to get up and try again."

"My physical therapist was that way sometimes. She wanted to make sure I'd have the strength to be as independent as I possibly could."

Danny nodded. "I've seen the way they work here. Everyone acts like a family. Morgan was a firecracker when Fowler attacked you. You've got good people here. People that really do care."

"Family is one of the things Russell tries to push for. He's not a fan of secrets or arguments around here. That has helped."

"Well, just between you and me, you got this in the bag. Don't worry about Fowler, I'll take care of him. I hear there's a lot of desert to dump a body in." Danny laughed at his joke, then noticed Jo was standing in the doorway. "Looks like that's my cue to leave. Talk to you later, maybe."

"Sure."

Jo waited until Danny had left. "Finn says she's ready to show you her findings. Ready?"

Sara nodded. "Can't wait."

* * *

**A/N: Fowler has a personal reason to be a jerk and we'll find out what that is soon. Leave a comment below!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank joann, was spratlurid quimby, phnxgrl, and mt6shock for their reviews. joann: probably not. I'm not really doing a shipping story, though if I did I would apparently be pairing Sara with Nick, Greg, Grissom, and Finn from all the requests. ****was spratlurid quimby: Danny did make the offer, but killing Fowler and burying him in the desert would be very illegal. I'll try to handle him in a legal way (burying him would probably be more fun). phnxgrl: Danny and Sara's conversation was fun to write. mt6shock: yes he is, as this chapter hopefully demonstrates.**

**This chapter starts where the last one left off. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 13

Sara rolled into the garage to find Lance talking to Finn, so she turned her attention to the transformation. Finn had hung large sheets of white paper to simulate the wall, and wrapped a dumpster in the white paper so they could see castoff there too. Under a dummy was more paper. All the papers had blood spatter on them. Finn spotted Sara, Morgan, and Jo walk in and ended her conversation.

Morgan stopped just outside the papers. "This is what we couldn't see?"

Finn nodded. "I took ALS photos, then sprayed the alley with Luminal and photographed that too. The luminal photos showed my theory. The ALS showed a bit more." She waved her hands to the papers. "The killers didn't clean up after themselves right away."

Sara spotted the board with Finn's photos on it. "The ALS showed more detail. Lighter and darker patches depending on how much had soaked into the underlying surface."

Finn nodded. "Exactly. Now, most of the detail was washed away, but there is enough here to know what happened. Morgan?"

Morgan moved onto the paper. "Yeah."

"I'll have you represent killer number two." Finn had Morgan stand in front of the dummy. "We know from the bruises Doc found that Stewart took a beating, probably to subdue her. Then one of the attackers took out a knife and stabbed her. From the blood spatter, they stood here." Finn stood in the corner between the dumpster and the wall.

Sara raised her hand, a smirk on her lips and laughter in her eyes. "Uh, no offense, but neither of you is tall enough."

Finn smiled too. "I had some help. Russell and Hodges are within the height ranges Doc gave me."

Morgan was holding the dummy. "Which one was first? The right-handed or left-handed attacker?"

"It's hard to tell, so I could be wrong about the order, but from how much blood the bricks absorbed, I'd say the right-handed attacker was first."

"Played by Hodges."

"Correct. He used the narrower blade, which is consistent with this." Finn held up a folding stiletto knife and hit the button to extend the blade. "Easy to conceal and popular with criminals. This one is a SKM thirteen inch, six of which is the blade."

Morgan peered around the dummy. "What about the other one?"

Finn set down the stiletto knife and traded places with Morgan who picked up the fixed blade. "The left-handed attacker, played by D.B., used a knife that was consistent with a hunting blade like this one. They also stood here." Finn directed Morgan to stand with her back to the wall. "This knife would have been harder to conceal as it needs a sheath to be safely carried."

Sara rolled her chair closer to Finn's demonstration. "Yeah, but, easy to conceal or not, P.D. confiscates over a hundred a year between the styles. Usually whenever they arrest gangbangers."

Morgan set down the knife she held. "So, are we looking for gangbangers?"

Sara shook her head. "Not necessarily. Organized crime sees their fair share during arrests they make as well."

Jo stepped forward. "I took a look at that ID you found. It is a forgery. The victim's name may not be Karen Stewart."

Danny walked in. "That's a safe bet. Lindsey finally got back to me. There are 52 Karen Stewarts in New York, but according to the DMV database, none of them looks like the victim. She ran the license number as well, but came up empty."

Sara turned back to her colleagues. "Our victim just became a Jane Doe."

* * *

Morgan and Sara found themselves alone in the A/V lab reassembling the victim's fingerprints. "Where are your observers?"

Sara shrugged, glad to have some time away from their watchful eyes. "I don't know, but I don't mind it. What happened with Fowler?"

Morgan groaned. "When he said we didn't care about you, I lost it. I mean, how dare he? He doesn't know us. He has no idea what we feel for each other."

Sara smiled. "I know."

Morgan nodded. "Danny stopped me; told me to redirect my anger into doing something useful."

Sara nodded. "I get the feeling Fowler's animosity toward me is from something else."

"I agree. That's why I'm digging into his past. If we can find the trigger, maybe we can get him removed from the review team."

Russell walked in. "How goes the print reconstruction?"

Sara finished the last of her prints. "All done. Let's run them."

Morgan hit the start button to run the prints. After a couple minutes, a box popped up on the screen. "Restricted access? What does that mean?"

Russell pulled out his phone. "That means our case just got more complicated."

Henry walked in before Russell could make his call. "Uh, sir. I've got a weird result."

"What is it?"

"I ran the DNA swabs Sara collected from the victim and a box popped up on my screen."

Russell pointed to the A/V screens. "Kind of like that one?"

Henry turned to look at it. "Exactly like that one."

Russell nodded and put his phone to his ear. "Yeah. We may be looking at an undercover Fed."

* * *

Russell had been in a meeting in his office for a while. Ecklie and two Feds from the Las Vegas field office were in there, too. Until things were figured out as to who had jurisdiction, the case had ground to a halt. Sara ate her lunch at her desk while filling out paperwork and getting started on her report.

Morgan and Finn walked in, closing the door behind them. "We figured out why Fowler is mad at you."

"What'd you find?"

Morgan's face glowed with excitement. "We discovered that what happened to you happened to his older brother."

"So?"

"So, the Nebraska crime lab wouldn't let him come back to work." Finn handed Sara a copy of the newspaper articles. "They forced Fowler's brother to retire."

Morgan nodded. "Both of them worked for the Nebraska crime lab at the time. They also sued the lab because of the brother's forced retirement, but the courts upheld the lab's decision."

Sara had skimmed the article. "This was over five years ago. Where's the brother now?"

Finn sighed. "Unfortunately, he committed suicide four years ago. That's on the second page. I think the idea of adjusting to life in a wheelchair was just too much for him."

Morgan nodded. "Fowler has been at the Iowa crime lab ever since his brother's death."

"New state, new start." Sara handed back the article. "So, what do we do with this?"

Finn pushed off the desk she'd been leaning against. "I think we present this to Russell, tell him Fowler has an unfair prejudice against you because of this, and argue for a new CSI to replace him on the review team."

Sara shook her head. "If we do that, then Danny would need to be removed too because he's been in my shoes."

"I disagree." Finn leaned against her desk again. "He's the bridge between you and the other observers because he understands what you're going through."

Morgan nodded in agreement. "We should at least show Russell what we found so he's aware of Fowler's actions."

Sara nodded. "That makes sense." The two FBI agents walked past the office. "It looks like Russell's out of his meeting."

Finn stood. "Let's go."

Finn opened the door while Sara used the structure over her desk to swing herself back into her wheelchair. Together, the girls headed to Russell's office. Up ahead, Ecklie exited the office, but stopped when Morgan signaled that he should stay. He looked a little confused by what they were doing.

Finn took the lead. "D.B., we have something to show you. It's about CSI Fowler."

Ecklie's expression went from confusion to a look of someone bracing themselves. "This have anything to do with Morgan yelling at him in the halls?"

Morgan turned to her father. "He'd just attacked Sara and suggested we didn't care about her. I was defending her."

Sara held a hand out to the young blonde. "Morgan, it's okay."

Morgan looked apologetic. "Sorry, dad."

He nodded. "I get it. Show us what you got."

Finn handed Russell the articles she'd shown Sara earlier. "Fowler is being... rude to Sara because he sees her getting the chance his brother didn't. Almost six years ago, Fowler's brother was shot and paralyzed while processing a crime scene, just like Sara."

Morgan stepped in. "Unlike Sara, the department in Nebraska forced him to retire. The brothers sued, but the courts upheld the department's decision. Four years ago, the brother killed himself and Fowler ended up transferring to Iowa."

Finn nodded. "He's trying to punish Sara for what happened to his brother. That's an unfair and very bias prejudice against her. We think he needs to be replaced on the review team."

Ecklie shook his head. "Even if he doesn't agree with the rest of the group, as long as the majority feel Sara can follow regs, she'll be fine."

Finn shook her head. "Every statement from the review team is made public. As long as one member of this review team finds Sara unable, the defense will always latch onto that review, especially if it's as negative as his will be. Everyone needs to be objective. Fowler is most definitely not."

Ecklie had crossed his arms as he usually did. "Following that logic, Danny Messer and possibly Jo Danville would have to be removed as well. I heard he was paralyzed at one point and both are friendly with this lab."

Danny had been passing the office, but came to the doorway when he heard his name. "Someone say my name?"

Finn turned to Ecklie. "Ask him yourself."

"Ask me what?"

Ecklie sighed. "Do you think you can be objective considering your… past experience?"

Danny nodded. "I think my experience in a wheelchair gives me a unique perspective on the challenges that need to be overcome. If I need to recuse myself because of that experience, I will, but I think I have the most knowledge on how to follow regs while in a chair."

"What about Danville? Do you feel she can be objective despite knowing this team?"

"When Jo was in the FBI, she worked a case involving a Senator's daughter. She found out one of the crime lab techs had tried to cover up a mistake he'd made while processing DNA evidence. She turned him in, knowing it would most likely get the case tossed in the process, which it did. The perp walked. If I know Jo, the truth comes before work history every time."

Russell nodded. "What about Fowler? Do you think he could be objective if he knew we were aware of his past?"

Danny shook his head. "Nah, I see his type all the time. Like white supremacists and religious fanatics, he's not going to budge on his opinion."

Ecklie nodded. "Okay. I'll present this evidence to the review board. Let them handle the decision. In the meantime, Sara, just do everything you're doing. Don't let him get to you. That goes for everyone." Russell handed Ecklie the newspaper articles and the Sheriff left.

Danny nodded with a smile at the three women. Sara took it to mean "good job" as he turned and followed Ecklie out of the office. Morgan and Finn shared a fist bump before turning to Russell.

"So, what's happening with our case?"

* * *

**A/N: For those wondering, Russell is 6'2" and Hodges is 5'9". I hope to get the next chapter up in a couple days. I have decided to skip on adapting "Dead Rails" and "Angle of Attack" due to how little Sara is in the episodes. Next week's episode will (hopefully) be fun to work on though. Drop me a line below. Where do you think this case is headed?**


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note: First off, I need to apologize for the long time between posts. Not only did the holidays get crazy, but I got sick on top of it and had almost no time or energy to write. I am feeling better now and should be back to writing and posting semi regularly. Secondly, I'd like to thank ponyliu, was spratlurid quimby, and phnxgrl for their reviews. Happy holidays to everyone and thanks for reading and commenting.**

**This chapter opens when the previous chapter ends. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 14

Russell held up the case folder. "I've got good news and bad news. Which do you want first?"

"Bad news."

"All right. The bad news is that we can't touch the driver's license case at all. The Feds say they're close to making an arrest in the case and they don't any interference from us to jeopardize the raid."

Finn showed her disappointment with a slump in her posture. "What's the good news?"

"We keep the homicide." Russell handed the folder to Morgan. "The FBI released her information. Our victim's name is Karen Sheppard, though if we make an arrest, they want us to use Karen Stewart when we talk to the suspect, just in case. FBI said they'll take care of the notifications."

Morgan had opened the file. "So, if we're not allowed to pursue the fake IDs, how are we going to solve this?"

"We have the evidence from the crime scene. That should give us something."

Russell nodded at Sara's remarks. "Nick and Greg just wrapped their case, so have them help you. I have a little more bad news."

Finn had been looking at the folder in Morgan's hands, but looked up at Russell when he mentioned bad news. "What?"

"There is a strong possibility that the Feds will be taking custody of the suspects when we catch them."

Morgan closed the folder. "We'll still be able to prosecute them for her murder, right?"

Russell shook his head. "It's doubtful that the State of Nevada will see that case. The Feds will tack that charge onto the list I'm sure they have. Let's… lets' not worry about who tries the case. The important thing here is to find and catch the guys responsible for this."

Sara rolled her chair back in preparation to leave. "Who's observing me now?"

"Andrews and Fowler. Make sure you guys play nice. If the review board doesn't pull Fowler, I don't want him to have any legitimate excuse for marking Sara down."

Finn looked playfully innocent. "What are you talking about? We're angels."

"Right, and I'm the Easter Bunny." Russell sat down. "Get the bad guys."

The girls walked out of Russell's office, and Finn doled out assignments. "I'm thinking Nick and Greg tackle surveillance cameras in the area of the crime scene to look for any visuals of our killers. I'll go through what the Feds brought; see if there's a lead there. You guys okay to take Henry and Hodges?"

Sara raised her hand. "I've got Hodges."

Morgan looked down at the brunette. "Why do you have Hodges?"

Sara tried to sound innocent. "I think he said he liked Fowler." Though her tone was fairly clear of emotion, her face gave her away her real intentions. She just wanted to have a little fun with the Master of All Things Trace.

* * *

Sara rolled into Trace with her observers in tow. "Hey, Hodges. Got your text; what do you have for me?"

He turned around and stopped short when he saw Fowler. "Ah, you brought your friends with you."

_Nice recovery_. "Hodges."

"Right. Diatoms in the water sample you collected match residue Finn collected from the wall."

"No surprises there."

"There was also something else in the residue Finn collected: I'm running it now." Hodges held up a new page. "The blue trace that Doc found in the victim's wounds turned out to be ink. Specifically the kind used for printing passports and driver's licenses."

"Which means at least one of the killers in most likely involved with the fake IDs. Anything that might tell us where to find him?"

Hodges gestured to his microscope. "Well, I don't know about the killer, but I can tell you where she's been. Take a look."

Sara rolled into position behind the microscope, stood up, and took a look. "It looks like dirt. What'd you find in it?"

"I'm glad you asked. This sample was lodged in the treads of the soles of her shoes and contained high concentrations of copper sulfides and lime. In Nevada, the closest source is found near Ely at the Robinson Mine where they are primary interested in the extraction of copper." Hodges handed her the results page.

"We should check it out."

Fowler had been behaving and quiet until now, but it was too good to be true. "And how exactly will you check out a mine? That chair is not designed for dirt and uneven surfaces."

Hodges, like Morgan, was not one to let his friends get attacked. "Hey, you don't know what you're talking about."

"Hodges, its fine." Sara turned back to Fowler. "If I change out the wheels, I can travel over less forgiving terrain."

Fowler sneered. "That's a lot of equipment to have sitting around for you to…"

The printer whirred to life and Hodges interrupted Fowler with a louder than usual voice. "Ah, I hear results printing." He grabbed the page and came back to Sara. "The other trace from Finn's swab is petroleum, hydrocarbons, polyalphaolefins, and polyinternal olefins."

"Motor oil."

"Old motor oil. This particular formula was discontinued in 1997."

Sara took the page from Hodges. "This might help us figure out where the forgers are set up. Thanks, Hodges."

"My pleasure."

Ecklie walked in. "CSI Fowler, a word please?"

Sara's heart leapt with hope. Could the review board have come back with their decision so soon? Was Fowler about to be told to pack his bags, someone else was about to take his place? Sara rotated the handles on her chair backwards to be seated once again. She was quietly hoping he was about to be replaced.

Andrews followed her out of Trace toward the layout room. "I heard he attacked you earlier tonight. Does the Sheriff's need to speak with Fowler have to do with that?"

Sara nodded. "Something like that." She went down the left side of the table and up her ramp. The rest of the team filtered in over the next few minutes, as did the rest of the review team. Noticeably absent was Fowler.

Danny was looking around the room. "Where's the bad attitude?"

Sara cleared her throat. "Ecklie asked to speak to him. That's all I know."

Finn started when Russell joined them. "Okay, so I can tell you that the Feds have been collecting evidence on this group for over a year. Our victim's real name is Karen Sheppard and she was undercover in the group working mostly as a courier. Her last check-in was a week ago, but she should have checked in again two days before she was killed. That tells me her cover was most likely blown and her beating may have been a part of an interrogation before her murder."

Sara went next. "Water residue matches the source at the spigot. The hose also left traces of motor oil on the wall. The motor oil was old; the formula was last used in 1997." She slide the results into the table.

Finn took a look. "Interesting."

Sara nodded. "Combine that with the dirt trace from her shoes and we're looking for something like an abandoned auto repair or service place near the Robinson Mine. I just looked it up," Sara was using the internet on her phone, "the Robinson Mine is near Ruth, almost seven miles from Ely."

Nick was looking at Sara's second trace report. "There're a lot of abandoned places out that way."

"Well, it would need to be big enough to conceal a printing operation. Trace in the wounds was ink, the kind used in passports and driver's licenses."

Finn set the motor oil page down. "Everything is coming back to the fake IDs."

Morgan set her folder down. "Well, I can't help ID anyone. Henry did find two distinct DNA samples, but there're no hits in CODIS. I also ran the fingerprints I found on her purse, but the only prints that didn't belong to her were unknown. I can tell you that we are looking for two white males." She slid the folder to the center of the table.

Finn picked it up. "What about the straight razor?"

Morgan shook her head. "The blood on the straight razor was unrelated. It matched a case that Days is working. I've turned it over to them."

Nick opened his laptop. "I might be able to help with an ID. There was a camera in the parking lot where you found the vic. Only one car enters the lot around the time of death. Now, as you can see," he played the video so they could see the car driving in, "the angle is less than ideal, so you can't make out who's driving, who's in the car, or where it goes, but you can see the plates. Car is registered to Aaron Boyd."

Greg held up Boyd's DMV photo and pinned it to the board behind him. "No criminal record, a couple parking tickets, but that's it. From DMV records, we know he's 6'1". That would make him the taller suspect."

Russell nodded. "So what you're telling me is we have a person of interest who may be connected to the FBI's fake ID investigation. The Feds have made it clear that we can't arrest them for Sheppard's murder because it might tip off the organization."

"What if we wanted to talk to him as a possible witness?" Eyes turned to Nick. "We know his car was there. We could bring him in under the guise of asking if he saw anything."

"I'll have to run it by the Feds, but that not a bad idea. We have his address?"

Greg handed a paper to Russell. "It's right here."

"Great." Russell looked up. "How can I help you, Conrad?"

Ecklie was standing in the doorway. "I wanted to let you know that CSI Fowler in no longer on the team reviewing Sara. This is CSI Chang from the LA crime lab. She'll be filling in."

A young woman poked her head in the door and waved. Morgan was standing to Sara's left. "She must be new; I never met her when I was in LA."

Sara returned the whisper. "She looks nice. Hopefully she's fair too."

Russell walked to the doorway and shook her hand. "Welcome. Sara's the one sitting at the back wall. You'll meet everyone else soon enough."

"Thanks so much. I'm just glad I was close enough to fill in on short notice."

Russell turned to Ecklie. "We need to meet with the Feds again. We have a person of interest I'd like to speak to."

"And we need to know if that's okay." Ecklie stepped out of the doorway. "Let's give them a call."

While Sheriff Ecklie and the Lab Supervisor went to talk to the FBI, Sara went to introduce herself to the new review member. "Hi, I'm Sara Sidle."

"Tammy Chang. Sheriff Ecklie only said I was to observe you before we came in. I'm not sure why exactly."

"Well, as you can see I'm in a wheelchair. This is a fairly recent change in my life, so I'm being observed to see if it interferes with my ability to follow regulations."

Chang nodded. "That makes sense."

"If you don't mind my asking, how did you get here so fast?"

"I was already here on vacation."

Sara grimaced. "Sorry to interrupt."

Chang shook her head. "Don't be. I was heading home today anyway. Now, I don't have to."

Danville put a hand on Chang's shoulder. "You're a bit behind on the review. I'll walk you through the evidence collection and our notes if you'd like."

"That'd be great."

Danville extended her hand. "Jo Danville, New York. Danny Messer over there works with me." Danny heard his name and waved.

Chang waved back. "Tammy Chang, L.A."

Morgan had finally broken away from the group in Layout. "Morgan Brody, Sheriff Ecklie's daughter. I used to work in L.A. Is Phil Grosman still there?"

Chang's eyes lit up. "Yes! Do you remember what he puts on his tuna sandwiches?"

Morgan shuddered. "Don't remind me…"

Morgan, Chang, and Danville walked down the hall together. Morgan and Chang were chatting amiably as they compared their times in the City of Angels. Across the lab, Sara saw Russell poke his head out of his office and gesture to her. She should probably figure out what he needed.

* * *

**A/N: The next chapter is mostly written and just needs to be typed. Should be up in a couple days. In the meantime, leave a comment below with what you think will happen on the case. Thanks!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank joann for her review. I am feeling much better now, thank you. This chapter starts up where the last one left off. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 15

Sara rolled into Russell's office and he held a finger to his lips, still talking. "I understand that you don't want us to compromise your investigation, but we have a person of interest we'd like to talk to. We're not going to bring him in as a P.O.I. We'll say he might be a witness and we'd like to talk to him. Can you help us out a little?"

The phone was on speaker. "_Mr. Russell, this is not up for debate. Once we've found where they're set up again, we'll see. Until then, not a chance_."

Sara waved her hands to get Russell's attention. He noticed and nodded. "Hold on a second." Russell put the phone on hold. "What do you have?"

"The fact that they don't know where the forgers are set up seems a little strange to me. I mean, they had Sheppard undercover with the group. You'd think that the location of their setup would be something she would tell the FBI about. Ask them about that."

The Sheriff turned around to look at Sara. "Where are you going with this?"

"We might be able to help them locate the hideout. The evidence says an abandoned auto repair shop near Robinson Mines. If the Feds let us talk to him, there's a chance that Aaron Boyd will be rattled and end up leading the Feds right to the setup."

Ecklie nodded. "It's not a bad idea."

"I'll pitch it to them." Russell took the phone off hold. "I've got a question for you. How do you not know where the forgers are set up? You had an agent undercover with them."

"_We did have a location, and when Karen didn't check-in, we raided it. They'd already moved. We're guessing they moved as soon as they'd figured out she was FBI_."

"And you want to know where they are so you can make the arrests."

"_Of course, why do you ask?_"

Russell glanced at the people in the office. "Our lab may have narrowed down the location for you. Evidence suggests that they are using an abandoned auto repair shop near Ruth. Now, I know that's not much to go on, but what if you had Aaron Boyd lead you right to them?"

The line was silent for a moment. "_Hold on_." The line went dead as they were put on hold.

Russell looked up. "Think it'll work?"

Ecklie shrugged. "The Feds have a few more resources than we do. No doubt they'll be coming up with a backup plan if they do go for it. They don't want to lose this group again."

The FBI came back on the phone. "_You've got yourself a deal. We're sending a couple agents over to set up a backup plan. Don't bring Boyd in until after they've arrive_."

Russell nodded. "You've got it. Thank you, Agent Cruz." He hung up. "We should get over there."

Ecklie nodded. "I'll let you handle the questions. I'll probably start treating him like the perp he is."

Sara followed the men out of Russell's office. "I'd like to see this through."

Russell looked back over his shoulder at Sara. "I'll drive."

* * *

Danville and Chang had come with Russell and Sara to PD. While they waited for the FBI to arrive, Chang talked with Sara, asking about the wheelchair and kit basket as well as the changes the lab had made to be ADA compliant. Sara answered honestly and showed Chang what her chair and basket could do. Like the other CSIs, Chang listened intently and observed what was possible for a CSI who relied on a wheelchair for mobility.

The FBI agents finally arrived and spoke with Russell and Ecklie briefly. Then they came over to the group and introductions were made. "I'm Agent Riley Peters, this is Agent William Sorenson."

Danville smiled at Sorenson. "It's a pleasure to see you again, Will."

Sorenson nodded tersely, no smile on his face. "Danville."

Sara glanced between the two. "You two know each other?"

Danville nodded. "When I was at the FBI, we used to work together."

Sorenson turned to Russell. "I'm not comfortable with her working on this case."

Danville shook her head. "Still bitter after all these years? You know as well as I do that the lab mistake wasn't made by me."

"No, but you did tell the prosecution about it."

"As was my obligation. If you had been in my position, you would have had the same responsibility."

Sorenson stood his ground. "You helped a rapist walk."

"Are you telling me you wouldn't have done the same thing?" Sorenson was silent at Jo's words. "It doesn't matter anyway. I'm not working this case, I'm with the New York Crime Lab now."

"Why are you here then?"

"That's not really any of your concern."

Russell moved in to break up the dispute. "Okay, okay, guys, let's… let's not fight right now. We're trying to catch a killer here. Why Jo is in Las Vegas is not important right now."

Ecklie walked over to the group. "I've dispatched a car to bring Boyd in. What's the plan here?"

Peters led the way into an open interrogation room. "We have a warrant to bug his phone, so if he makes a call after you speak to him, we'll be able to hear what he's saying. We're also setting up undercover cars along the route so we can tail him without tipping him off."

"Staggered entry and exits?" Danville was getting right into the FBI lingo.

Peters nodded. "Plus head tails in passing zones. We'll do what we can not to lose him."

Ecklie nodded. "What about the arrest?"

"LVPD can join in, but Boyd will be taken into Federal custody if there's anything relating to the fake IDs discovered at the scene or in the call."

Ecklie pointed to a spot on the map Peters had spread out. "You can use this spot as a staging area. My CSI's get calls out to that spot whenever the locals are short-handed. We can put a fake body dump on the scanners to cover up the real reason."

Peters nodded. "Get the locals on board. That would be very helpful."

Sara leaned forward. "How are we going to separate Boyd from his phone to plant the bug?"

"You have a small tub handy? I was thinking all cell phones get collected when you come in here."

Ecklie shook his head. "We've never done that before and if he knows that, he'll refuse."

"Call it a trial program then. Who knows, you might start doing it." Peters started folding up the map.

Russell turned to Ecklie. "You should get the locals on board with the staging area. I'll handle the prep here. You two," he was looking at the FBI, "should be out of sight when Boyd gets here. If he sees the FBI, game's over."

Peters grabbed her case. "Do you have somewhere for us?"

Ecklie had his phone to his ear. "You can use my office. It's out of sight of the interrogation rooms. Yes, Sheriff Watts, this is Sheriff Ecklie of Clark County with a request from the LVPD. I have a favor to ask…" He left the room.

Russell held the door. "I'll take you there."

The next half hour was spent handing out assignments and setting up. Danville and Chang had been sent back to the lab so they could meet with the review team and start working on their decision. Officers Akers and Mitchell had been recruited to help with the phone bugging, as had Sara. Mitchell was to be the lookout, letting Russell know when Sara brought back the phone. Akers would collect the phones and stand outside the interrogation room with them so Boyd would think the phone wasn't going anywhere. Sara was the courier between Akers and the FBI agents. Russell would be questioning Boyd, which also meant he had to keep him distracted till the phone came back. It would be a tight schedule.

* * *

Russell waited by reception for Boyd to arrive. In the hall, Sara and Crawford were going over a folder for a case that had already been tried, just to put Sara in a position to see Boyd arrive and enter the interrogation room. Officers Akers and Mitchell were in the hallway as well, the phone collection tray in Akers' hand.

Aaron Boyd walked in with his uniformed escort. He looked a little nervous, but not full on suspicious. Russell walked forward and shook his hand before leading him toward the interrogation room. At the door, Akers held out the tray. Mitchell put his phone in the tray, as did Russell.

Boyd stopped. "What's this?"

"We're trying a new program. Phones go in the tray before we go in there."

"Why?"

"It's a security thing. The phones don't go anywhere. Officer Akers will stay right out here. You'll be able to see him the whole time."

Boyd reached into his pocket and took out his phone, setting it in the tray. "Fine."

Officer Mitchell opened the door. "After you."

Boyd walked in the room, followed by Mitchell, with Russell bringing up the rear. As soon as the door closed, Akers took Boyd's phone out of the tray and Sara rolled down the hall toward him. As she passed him, Akers dropped the phone on Sara's lap and she kept going. Inside the interrogation room, Russell sat down to talk to Boyd. Mitchell stood by the wall behind Boyd so he could see when Sara returned.

Russell set the folder in his hands down. "So, Aaron Boyd. Can I get you anything? Coffee, soda?"

"No, thanks."

"Okay. I want you to know, first off, that you're not in trouble. We think you might be a witness to a crime."

Boyd's eyes became innocent wide and he pursed his lips. "I don't think so."

Russell smiled. "I think you might be. You just don't realize it yet. Let me check some facts and we'll see. Do you recall where you were between three and six pm, uh," he opened the folder to look at the date, "two nights ago?"

Boyd shrugged. "I was out running errands. I don't remember where I was when."

"And your vehicle," Russell checked the folder, "is a Toyota Camry, correct?"

"What does my car have to do with anything?"

Russell pulled a still from the video Nick had found out of the folder. "Well, there was a murder. We're still looking for where it was committed, but the body of a young woman was found in an alley here."

Boyd looked at the photo. "That's my car. You think I was involved?"

"No, no, I think you may have seen something. Was there anyone else in the area at the time?"

Boyd shook his head. "No. Well, there was someone, but I think they were homeless. I didn't see another car."

Russell sat up. "Could you describe them?"

"No, sorry. They were wearing a hood. I didn't see a face. Who was the victim?"

"She's a Jane Doe." Behind Boyd, Mitchell nodded, which meant Sara had returned the phone. "The ID we found nearby was a fake. We're trying to recover her fingerprints right now so we can get an ID."

Boyd glanced at Akers' back. "Is there anything else, or can I go?"

Russell gathered up the photo. "No, nothing else. Thank you for coming in. I'm sorry for bringing you down here like that."

Boyd stood up and hurried to the door. He quickly grabbed his phone and speed walked to the door. Nick was coming in the front door with his dog, Sam, as Boyd walked out. He shook his head at Russell to indicate that Sam hadn't found the victim's scent on Boyd's car. Either Sheppard hadn't been in the car, or Boyd had gotten the car detailed after her death.

Sara rolled over to Russell. "I almost didn't make the hand off without forcing Akers to move. Boyd suspect anything?"

"No, but when I mentioned Sheppard's ID was a fake, he couldn't wait to get to his phone."

"Yeah, I noticed he was in a hurry."

Russell turned to go to Ecklie's office. "Let's hear what Boyd is saying."

* * *

**A/N: Sheriff Watts is the real Sheriff for the White Pine County police department in charge of Ruth, which is in White Pine County, Nevada. I believe the next chapter should wrap this one up. Thanks for reading!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank phnxgrl for her review. I think Ecklie's gone with both Clark County Sheriff and LVPD on the show, so if I got a little confused, it was an honest mistake. Thanks for the correction. This chapter starts where the last one left off. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 16

Boyd was already on the phone talking to someone when Russell and Sara came into Ecklie's office. "…_gotta grab the truck and pack everything up. Change states. I know Vegas was good to us for a while, but finding out Karen was a Fed bitch ruined everything_."

The other guy on the phone had a deep voice. "_You're freaking out for no reason. They aren't close at all_."

Boyd was pissed. "_You don't get it, man! They know the ID we left behind with her body is a fake. And right now their putting her fingerprints back together so they can get an ID. My car was caught on camera near where we killed her! They know I'm involved. It's only a matter of time before they find out she was a Fed. I knew we should have burned her fingers or something._"

"_What did they say?_"

"_They were talking to me like I might have been a witness, but they know. Damn it, man, they know! We gotta get out of state_."

Deep voice sounded stressed now. "_Okay, okay. We'll pack things up here. Just get here. We'll torch your car and put everything in the trucks and run._"

"_Yeah, yeah. I'm already on my way. I thought they were tailing me for a bit, but the car turned a few streets back, so I think I'm good_."

"_Keep an eye out just in case. We don't want any surprises. And be careful when you get close. There was a body dump a couple miles from here. Someone from Vegas was dumped near Liberty Pit. Cops are everywhere_."

Boyd cursed under his breath. "_Maybe we wait to move until tonight. Pack everything into the trucks in the shop, but wait until after dark to leave. Fewer prying eyes then_."

"_Yeah, sounds good. See you when you get here_. _We'll discuss destinations then._"

The phone call came to an end and Agent Peters straightened up. "That puts him in Federal jurisdiction."

Russell nodded. "I just want to get him. I don't care who takes him away."

Sorenson was coordinating the cars. "We're trying to keep them a bit farther back, but so far we still have eyes on him."

Peters nodded. "Keep it that way."

The next few hours were spent listening to calls from the drivers who were tailing Boyd. In the city, Boyd had taken a couple random turns to check if he was being followed. The drivers had called to say they had been forced to break off surveillance to avoid detection. At least other drivers had been able to pick up the tail when Boyd passed by them later. Out on the highways, it was easier to stay on Boyd's tail without arousing suspicion because there weren't very many places to turn off, which meant everyone was taking the same route the suspect was.

A little more than four hours later, Boyd arrived at his destination and pulled off at an abandoned auto repair shop just shy of Ruth's city limits. The driver tailing him at that point called in the address and Peters called Agent Cruz at the staging area to announce that the setup's location had been positively identified. Within minutes, the FBI had raided the shop, taking Boyd and another man into custody, killing one of the forgers when he pulled a gun on them and opened fire.

Greg and Morgan were with the team of CSIs that moved in to process the counterfeiting operation after the building had been cleared. The evidence they collected was handed over to the FBI for processing. At this point, the Feds were in charge and nothing any of the local authorities could do was going to change that. True to his word though, Russell didn't care that the case had changed hands. This case had started with the FBI and he was just happy to help them solve it.

Russell drove Sara back to the lab to find the CSIs on the review team had taken over the break room for their meeting. Many of the lab rats and some of the CSIs were watching the team as though one of them might stand up and start writing their conversation on the windows so everyone would know what was going on. Russell had to shoo the onlookers back to their stations.

Finn put a hand on Sara's shoulder. "They've been in there for an hour already. It's been a pain. They confiscated all our reports and notes as well as the sketches and photos. I was hoping to start writing up my final reports so the FBI would be able to collect everything in one trip, but that's not going to happen."

Sara nodded. "So we can't really start working right now."

"Nope. I knocked and asked for a copy of my notes so I could get started, but no luck."

Sara noticed Russell was headed for the break room. "Maybe Russell can convince them."

Finn pulled out her phone. "Great idea." She started typing. "'Can't do our reports without our notes. Any chance you can get us copies?' There, now he knows."

Russell was in the break room talking with the members of the review team. Sara and Finn watched as Russell pulled out his phone to see Finn's text. He looked up at the pair out in the hallway and waved his phone to say he got it. It seemed to work because the reviewers started handing Russell stacks of the CSIs' notes. After a few more remarks back and forth between the reviewers and Russell, he emerged.

He brought the notes to Finn. "Make copies and give the copies back to the review team as quick as you can."

Finn nodded. "You got it." She handed Sara her notes. "You go ahead and get started. I'll make copies of these and then get yours."

Sara handed the stack back. "They're here to review me. Probably best to get my info back to them first."

"You have a point. Let's make copies."

* * *

Sara was sitting in her shared office, after finishing her reports, waiting for Russell to call her into his office. The review team had been in there for a while and she was beginning to worry that they were actually saying she would have to give up working in the field if she wanted to remain a CSI with the LVPD. Which lab process could she see herself doing? Archie was the AV specialist, Hodges was Trace, Mandy was fingerprints, and Henry did DNA and Toxins. Maybe she could take over DNA. Henry would probably love not having to pull double duty anymore. Actually, Ballistics was open as well, and Henry was amazing at doing both DNA and Toxins. And Sara knew she wouldn't like spending all her time in DNA. So Ballistics then.

Sara shook her head. She wasn't made to live in the lab with the other lab rats. She loved working in the field too much. If she was told she couldn't do that anymore, she wouldn't know what to do. Teach maybe, but even that wasn't appealing. She looked around the office. She had come to love this place. She'd spent eight years here before taking a break to find her center again and then return. Since her return, she'd been here for another five years. In those thirteen combined years, she'd developed friendships and changed so much. To have that come to an end because of her wheelchair would be devastating.

A text from Russell brought Sara out of her musings. The meeting with the review team had come to an end and her presence was being requested. Sara grabbed the bar over her head and swung her body into her wheelchair. She quickly moved her feet onto the footrest of the wheelchair and rolled out to the hallway.

Morgan fell into step with Sara. "Review time?"

Sara nodded. "I'm nervous. I don't want to leave the lab."

"You won't. Danny and Jo are going to say you're fine, and I'm pretty sure Chang will too."

Finn joined them. "I got the chance to talk to Lance and she sounds like she'll say yes as well. And from the way Andrews would watch you, I'd say you're going to be fine. Sara, you got this."

Sara was feeling a little better. The group stopped at the office door and both Morgan and Finn hugged Sara for good luck. Sara smiled; she was lucky to have friends like them. Nick and Greg were just down the hall with Hodges and all of them gave her a thumbs-up in encouragement. Greg had one of his trademarked, goofy grins on his face which made Sara want to laugh. Sara smiled at them and turned to face the office door. She took a deep breath and let it out before turning the handle and going inside.

Russell looked up. "Close the door behind you."

Sara closed the door and turned around. "I'm assuming you've come to a decision."

Danny stood up. "We have. Each of us is going to give you the bullet points of our reviews. I'll go first. From what I've seen, you've adjusted to this life altering injury with grace and a great attitude. You do what you can to follow regulations, but when you know there is something you can't do alone, you defer to one of your teammates and let them do what you can't. I think that, even though your abilities as a CSI have been affected, you are still a capable CSI and should not be penalized for that."

Danny sat and Jo stood. "Regulations are put in place to ensure that evidence is collected and processed correctly. They do not say that someone must have full use of all their limbs. You may not be able to walk, but what you can do falls well within regulations. Danny mentioned something I've noticed too. While there are limitations to what you can do physically, you are aware of them. You are always partnered with someone who can do what you can't, and you work well with your partners to process the scene by the book."

Andrews stood when Jo sat. "When I was still a cop, I had a partner who was injured the same way you were. He allowed his anger at the situation and depression over his limitations to destroy his life. You have not. You have risen above the challenges and proven to me just what someone with a physical disability could do in a job like this. I believe that your abilities to follow regulations have not been compromised."

Chang stood up and smiled. "I'm new to this team, so I couldn't observe you in action very much, so I approached this review in the more traditional angle. From my investigation, your procedure for gathering and processing evidence is all above board and follows regulations. If I was unaware of your disability, I would have assumed that the CSI under review was just as able bodied as most Crime Scene Investigators are." Chang's comments stung Sara but she kept her face composed as the young CSI sat down again. Sara knew that most of the words Chang used were more from an ignorance of how some handicapable people liked to speak about their circumstances.

Lance stood up. "Like my fellow reviewers, I too feel that your evidence collection processes follow regulations. Your chair allows you to move freely and stand, which means that there isn't much your fellow CSIs can do that you can't. My only concern is that the treads of your tires may cause cross contamination to the crime scene. I would suggest that you get something like booties for your tires to ensure that you don't run into the defense making that kind of a claim in the future. I'm not going to mention the wheel booties in my report, that's just a personal opinion."

Russell nodded to the CSIs. "Thank you for your time and thoughts. Sheriff?"

Ecklie had been standing quietly off to the side. "I would like a copy of your reports before you go. Thank you for coming and providing your services."

Russell turned to Sara. "From the looks of it, your job is safe. Anything you'd like to add?"

Sara shook her head, a lump in her throat making it hard to speak. Russell could read the smile on her face though and smiled as well. "From the smile, I think she means thank you."

Sara nodded and finally found her voice. "Yes, thank you. This job has been my life for many years now and I, uh, I don't know what I would have done if I'd been told I needed to retire. So, thank you."

* * *

When the shift ended that day, everyone gathered at Sara's for a little party. It wasn't a formal thing, just beers and snacks. Maybe they'd watch a movie together too as they celebrated a passing score on the review. Sara sat back in her chair and smiled as she watched her friends discuss the reviewers and compare notes on Fowler in particular. She couldn't get over the lighthearted feeling of getting through something difficult and passing spectacularly. Catherine had phoned earlier to check in on the progress of the review and Sara had gotten to share the good news with her former colleague too. All in all, it had been a good day today.

Nick brought Sara a beer and held his up. "I just want everyone here to know how happy I am that one of my good friends can stay with us. Sara, congrats on surviving that review, man."

Finn held her beer up to. "Hear, hear."

Sara grinned. "Thank you guys for supporting me through this process. Morgan and Hodges had to step up a bit more than necessary," everyone glanced at the two and laughed as they both blushed, "but thank you all the same. I couldn't have done that without you guys."

Morgan smiled. "The lab just wouldn't be the same without you."

Greg tipped his beer to his friend. "Cheers to that." Beers clinked together and everyone drank to the toast.

Sara smiled. "Who wants to pick the movie?"

* * *

**A/N: ****This is the last chapter for Sara's review. Next chapter will be start of the adaptation for the episode "Dead Woods." Stay tuned!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank Noodle the Albino Python, joann, ****was spratlurid quimby, and phnxgrl for their reviews. joann: I considered something like that, but couldn't find a way to fit it in realistically. This is the start of my adaptation of S15E12: "Dead Wood". Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 17

Officer Akers arrived at the scene of the murder to find a young woman, in a outfit that didn't match the neighborhood at all, kneeling over the body of the victim. She was as still as a statue, face blank. It was almost like she was in a different world. Akers couldn't tell what was going through her mind, or why she was here, or how she was connected to the man. All he knew was that he needed to get her talking to find out.

He knelt next to the teenager. "Miss? Can you hear me?" His hand was on her shoulder and she was staring ahead of her, rocking back and forth a little. He tried again. "Miss?" She finally looked over and it looked like the trance was beginning to lift. "Are you okay?"

Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. She stared at his badge and then looked up at his face. She gasped and hurried to her feet, staring at the dead man like she was seeing him for the first time. He mouth was still open in horror, her eyes still wide with fear.

"Can you tell me what happened?"

The girl turned to look at him again. "Sara Sidle." The girl turned back to look at the dead man and Akers was struggling to understand what was happening here. She looked back up at him, a panic in her voice. "I need to talk to Sara Sidle."

* * *

When Sara had gotten the call, she'd been at PD filing the last bit of paperwork for a case. Finn was her ride back to the lab, but she was busy talking to Ecklie about their case. Sara found the nearest uniform she could and had him rush her down to the scene. Abby Fisher was a victim from a case she had worked ten years ago. They had stayed in touch ever since. Now Abby was at a crime scene where someone had been murdered, and had demanded to talk to her old CSI friend. Whatever it was, it had to be important. Officer Akers was waiting for Sara behind the police tape.

Sara propelled herself forward. "What happened?"

Akers held up the tape so she could roll under it. "I don't know, she's not talking. You want me to call her folks?"

"She's in foster care."

Akers fell into step with her. "How do you know her?"

"Old case. When Abby was five, her father shot the whole family, then turned the gun on himself. She was the only survivor."

"God, that's horrible." Akers stopped in horror as they approached Abby. The girl was sitting on the hood of a squad car staring at her hands. Sara took off her sunglasses as Abby looked up and saw Sara approaching. She pushed off the car and stood, looking somewhere between guilty and in shock. Sara knew the teen wasn't surprised to see her in a wheelchair; that conversation and meeting had happened a while ago. No, this look was most likely because of what had happened here.

Sara used her gloved hands to slow the chair as she approached. "Hey." She reached up and held the girl's arms. "Are you all right?"

Abby nodded. "Yeah."

"You're okay?"

She was still nodding. "Mm-hm."

Sara released Abby's arms and waved a hand over the scene. "So, what's going on here? You're hanging around the alphabets, standing over the body of a dead guy."

Abby shrugged. "He pulled a gun on us."

"'Us'? Slade?! You were down here with Slade?!" Sara hated that kid and was upset that Abby was still hanging out with him. "Abby, I told you that kid is bad news!"

"Sara, please, I…"

Sara pointed at the dead guy, anger making her ignore Abby's protests. "Did he shoot this guy?"

Abby raised her voice to break through the red Sara saw every time Slade was brought up. "Listen to me!" Sara stopped yelling and looked Abby in the eyes. "I finally remember something. From ten years ago." Abby started shaking her head, subdued relief breaking through her shock. "My father didn't do it."

* * *

Abby was pacing in Brass' old office at PD while Sara was on the phone with Abby's foster mother. "She's fine, we'll see you soon. Uh-huh. Okay, bye." Sara hung up and rolled into the office. "Joanna's on her way. As soon as you give your statement, you can go home."

Abby looked incredulous. "But we need to talk about my father." Sara wasn't sure what there was to talk about and Abby must have seen it because her tightly crossed arms came apart and she raised her voice. "I told you, I think he's innocent."

"Abby, you always told me that you didn't remember anything about what happened that night."

"I didn't. But after Slade shot that guy, I smelled something. Uh, a chemical, kind of like kerosene, but not. I smelled the exact same thing the night my family was killed."

"You mean, inside the tent?"

Abby's eyes went distant as she described the memory she'd had. "When I smelled it, it's like I was right back there. I'd just been shot. My head was bleeding. He picked me up. That's when I smelled it. When he was putting me into my sleeping bag."

"Your father."

"No! This man had a beard. It wasn't my father." Her eyes snapped back to Sara's. "I am telling you, someone else was there that night. He killed my family. Tried to kill me. My father didn't do it."

Sara turned her chair a little and moved to put a little distance between herself and Abby's barely hidden excitement. "Okay, all right, listen, I… I know you want to believe that your father is innocent, but the evidence…"

Abby was slowly growing hysterical that Sara wouldn't accept this newly recovered memory. "I know what I saw."

"Abby, you were five years old. You'd been shot, you saw your mother and your sister killed. That kind of trauma… can play tricks on your mind."

"I'm not making this up."

Sara shook her head. "Abby, I…"

Abby sighed in disbelief as an officer walked in. "I thought you of all people would believe me." She walked out, following the officer who was going to take her statement.

* * *

Sara rolled into the waiting room with a coffee in her chair's cup holder to talk to Joanna while Abby was giving her statement. "Joanna." She stopped in front of the redhead and held the coffee out to her. "Cream and sugar."

Joanna took the cup in both hands. "Thank you."

"Abby's just, uh, giving her statement."

Even though Joanna had seen Sara in her chair, there was a slightly uncomfortable nature to her interactions with the CSI now. "Uh, I'm really glad she reached out to you."

Sara tried to play off the discomfort as being with the situation and not the wheelchair. "She's fifteen. You're her mom. It's a complicated relationship."

Joanna shook her head. "I don't think she really thinks of me as her mother." She paused. "Ever since we started the adoption process, she's been acting out. Breaking curfew, skipping school…"

Sara shook her head, cutting off the list of things Abby was doing to defy her adoptive parents. "She loves you and Brian. She's been through so much, huh?" Joanna nodded. "Sometimes I'm amazed that she's done as well as she has."

"Well, I- I think that's because of you." Sara's smile faltered a little, uncomfortable at this show of emotion. "You two have a very special bond. I'm so glad you're a part of her life."

"Thank you. I am, too." Sara looked around Joanna when she saw movement through the glass behind her and spotted Slade being brought in. She rushed to excuse herself. "I'll be right back." She followed Akers, who was leading a handcuffed Slade to the interrogation room. "Hey, Slade!" His head turned when he heard his name. "What the hell is wrong with you, taking Abby to that part of town?"

Akers had turned Slade around so Sara could talk to him properly and Sara pushed Slade backwards into the wall behind him. Akers made sure to turn his head away quickly so he couldn't be asked what happened; after all, he didn't actually see anything. Slade wasn't paying attention to where the cop's eyes were directed and thought he was about to get an easy witness. Too bad the brotherhood of law enforcement was willing to back up their own.

"Yo, you see that?"

Akers frowned and shrugged. "I didn't see anything."

Sara had a hand on Slade's chest to keep him pinned to the wall. "She is not your girlfriend anymore. You come near her again, and my face is gonna be the last thing you will ever see." Sara had no intention of actually killing the kid, that would put her in a big mess to sort out, but she needed him to believe that, despite her chair, her threat was real. He seemed to get it too. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed in fear, his eyes a little wider and more nervous than before. Sara took her hand off his chest and turned her chair to head back up the hall.

Akers moved forward to reclaim his suspect. "Let's go."

* * *

Greg walked into the morgue while David was busy with the preliminary exam. "Hey. That the guy from the alley?" He pulled latex gloves on as David stood up.

"Uh-huh." David clicked his pen and took some notes. Greg bent down and started sniffing the dead guy. "Greg?"

"Yeah."

"What are you doing?"

Greg straightened up. "Tell me what you smell."

David bent down to take a sniff. _This guy is ripe_. "Urine. Booze. And years without a shower." He straightened up. "Why?"

"I smell smoke. Like he's been around a fire."

"Yeah, well, he was probably trying to stay warm. Why are you so interested in how he smells?"

Greg looked at the dead guy. "It's not me, it's Sara. Uh, this guy was killed mugging a young girl. She smelled something on him that reminded her of a crime scene from ten years ago." Greg wasn't sure how reliable that memory would be, but was willing to at least confirm or refute the information before casting judgment.

David looked up. "Was the case unsolved?"

"Ruled a murder-suicide. Youngest daughter survived. Now she thinks her father might have been innocent." Greg shot David a look that said he didn't believe it.

David wasn't so quick to judge. "He's pretty ripe. It's gonna be hard to isolate one particular smell."

"Sounds like a job for the Cyranose 320." When David was done with his prelim, Greg got out the small machine and ran it over the dead guy's body to capture all the scents coming off of him. If anything was going to identify all the scents Abby might have smelled, it was this device. It identified benzene, ethanol, and uric acid as well as several others. Maybe this would help Sara.

* * *

**A/N: Earlier in this chapter, I mentioned that Sara's hands were gloved when she spoke with Abby at the crime scene. Those gloves would be the kind used to protect your hands while using a manual wheelchair like the one Sara has in this story. Just FYI. Thanks for reading and drop a comment in the box below! Thanks! :)**


	18. Chapter 18

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank Chocolate strawberries 123, phnxgrl, and mt6shock for their reviews. mt6shock: welcome back and glad you liked the last "episode". phnxgrl: adapting the confrontation with Slade was an interesting challenge. I'm glad you liked it. Chocolate strawberries 123: Thank you, I'm glad you liked it. This chapter starts during the montage with Greg and the dead mugger. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 18

While Greg analyzed the dead man with a Cyranose 320 to identify the smells he was wearing, Sara took over the layout room. She pinned the photos from the evidence box on the boards and spaced the various reports all over the table. It was time to look at the case with fresh eyes and use the information Abby might have remembered as a guide. Maybe in the haste to call the case a murder-suicide and close it up, there was something they had overlooked.

Sara stared at the first photo she had taken of the crime scene. She remembered walking that scene, photographing the father with his gun in the dirt next to him. She had taken photos of melted cups in the fireplace and the exterior of the tent before going inside to document the body of the mother, blood pools and spatter, and oldest daughter tucked in her sleeping bag. She also photographed the blood pool where Abby had been tucked in, unconscious but somehow miraculously alive. Sara's eyes then drifted to a picture of Abby with her head bandaged. The memory drifted to her mind's eye…

_Sara took a few pictures of the young girl in the hospital bed before walking around to the other side and sitting gently on her bed. The girl looked terrified, probably because she was still trying to wrap her five-year-old brain around what had happened. She also looked sad, and Sara recognized the feeling from when her father had been murdered by her mother. Abby was struggling to cope with the knowledge that, not only was her family gone, but her father might have been the one to kill them. It was going to be a difficult few months for her._

_"Abby, I'm gonna take a sample of your DNA." Sara popped the cap off a cotton swab and Abby's eyes darted to it. "Doesn't hurt. I'm just gonna put the swab against your cheek like this." Sara demonstrated on herself first so young Abby would know what to expect. She then closed up the swab and threw it away so she wouldn't confuse it with Abby's swab. The girl sat up and opened her mouth. "Here we go." She swabbed Abby's mouth. "Good job."_

_Abby lay down and stared at Sara for a while. "They're dead, aren't they?"_

_Sara nodded, unsure how to break this kind of news in a gentle way to someone so young. "I'm sorry." Abby had her eyes down, trying to be a big girl but wanting so badly to cry. "Abby," Sara sighed. She didn't want to ask her any questions and force the girl to relive those painful moments, but she had to ask. Abby was their only witness, "did you see what happened? Who hurt you and your family?"_

_Abby's face looked so pitiful. She was still somehow fighting tears. "I don't remember." Her face contorted, tears welling up in her sad eyes._

_Sara wasn't going to press, at least not very hard. "That's okay. What's the last thing that you do remember?"_

_Abby's lip was trembling. "Mommy and Daddy. They were fighting."_

_"Then what happened?"_

_"I don't remember."_

_Sara nodded. "That's okay."_

_"I want my mommy." Tears had started to fall._

_Sara's breath caught. She knew the feeling. "I know." Abby reached up and Sara leaned in to give her a hug, trying to replace for a moment, the arms this little girl craved so much. "Of course you do. It's okay." They stayed like that for a while. For some reason, Sara didn't want to let go._

But Greg was interrupting the memory and it was time to return to reality. "Sara? Hey, Sara," Sara turned her head to see Greg standing in the doorway, "got the, uh, results on your Cyranose 320." Sara turned her chair and stood up next to the layout table where she could see what she'd spread over the surface earlier. "Your mugger was a smelly guy. Over twenty different scents on him. Most of them were pretty common," Greg handed the folder to Sara, "alcohol, smoke, urine."

Sara didn't feel like reading through the list of all the smells that the Cyranose 320 had identified. "Abby said it was something that she hadn't smelled in ten years. Like kerosene, or something."

Greg quickly flipped through the list in his head. "Could have been gun cleaner," he pointed to the report, "we found traces of that on him."

"Huh. I didn't smell any of that at the scene ten years ago. Not on the gun, not on the father."

"Was there evidence of another gun used?"

Sara set the folder down. "No. Firearms confirmed that every shot came from the father's gun."

Greg shifted his weight as another theory came to him. "Well, someone could've brought the smell with him into the tent. Stinky stuff. I mean, it gets on your hands, your clothes…"

"So it's possible that someone who smelled like gun cleaner went into the tent, used the father's gun and wiped out the whole family. Abby… could be right. Maybe her father didn't do it."

Greg hesitated before presenting his thought. "I know that you're pretty tight with this girl. I know you've stayed in touch through all these years."

Sara started defending her actions, though she remained gentle to avoid hurting Greg's feelings. "She needed somebody to look after her."

"We've worked a lot of cases where kids lost their parents."

"Yeah… but one parent killing another, getting shipped off to foster care… That's something I know a little bit about."

Greg nodded. "In all the years we've been friends, we've never really talked about what happened with your dad." Greg seemed to be having a little trouble maintaining eye contact. "And I don't mean to pry, but…"

Sara interrupted. "You know what happened. They had a volatile relationship. And…" Sara's phone rang, interrupting her just as she started to share her story. It then buzzed to let her know a text had come in. She checked her phone and saw Russell wanted to see her. She flashed Greg a smile that told him the conversation would have to wait for later. "It's Russell." She sat the chair down and rolled past her friend to see what D.B. wanted.

* * *

In typical Russell fashion, he didn't get straight to what he wanted to talk about. "According to my case sheet, you have twelve open cases. Is that right?"

Sara nodded, not liking where this was going. "More or less."

"More or less. So then why are you ordering evidence from long-term storage for a case that was closed ten years ago?"

Sara jumped in, eager to defend her desire to pursue this case. "Uh, new evidence was brought to my attention and, uh, I wanted to give the case another look."

Russell was a master at sounding annoyed, but not looking anything other than relaxed. "Well, then, you should have come to me first."

Sara was feeling like a scolded child. She knew the proper procedure was to talk to Russell to get approval, but her initial reaction to Abby's alleged memory had made her hesitant to ask to reopen the case without checking what was in the files first. "I- I just wanted to see if what I was told had any merit."

Russell closed the folder. "All right. Where are you getting your new information?"

"Abby Fisher."

"The girl that survived?"

"She smelled gun cleaner and it brought back a memory of the night that her family was murdered. She thinks that there was someone else there."

Russell was as skeptical as Sara had been when Abby told her what she remembered. "Eyewitness account, especially years after the fact, are unreliable, and you know that."

"There's more." Sara was glad now that she'd looked at the files before Russell had found out. "Uh, I looked at her dad's tox report and there was a substantial amount of alcohol found in his system, but there were other peaks on the GC that were never analyzed."

D.B. had picked up the file again, but closed it when what he heard what sounded like Sara questioning Doc's ruling. "Doc ruled this a suicide. So you know what you're asking? By reopening this case, you're asking Doc to change the manner of death and I just don't see him doing that, not with what you've given me."

Sara wasn't backing down without a fight. "Russell, Abby has believed that her father was a murderer her entire life. If there's a chance that he wasn't, we owe it to her to find that out. This girl lost her whole family. She has no one to fight for her. Please, let me just take a look at it."

Russell must have pitied her pleading eyes, because he gave in. "All right, fine. Take a look at it." Sara started to turn her chair. "But wait, hold on. Look, look, this is going to ruffle a lot of feather. Not just Doc; Ecklie, too. So for my sake, you'd better be right."

Sara nodded. "I know."

* * *

Russell had decided that he should be the one to talk to Doc about the Fisher case. As he had predicted, Doc had been unhappy with the implication that Sara was accusing him of not doing his job properly ten years ago. "Let me get this straight. Sara is accusing me of cutting corners on my examination of Mr. Fisher?"

"No, Doc. In light of new information, Sara just wants to take a look at the case in a different context." It seemed like Russell's calm demeanor was having no effect on the medical examiner.

Doc grabbed the report off the desk. "All right. Mr. Fisher died from a contact gunshot wound to the right temple. There was gunshot residue on his right hand, his gun was found beside him, and he had a blood tox level of point two three. Tell me, please, what is it about this that doesn't indicate suicide?" He was still mad at the implication that he was incapable of doing his job.

Russell remained calm. "In the tox report, Sara found a peak from the GC that was never analyzed."

"Got that tox report right here." Doc shifted the papers so the chart was on top. "What peak are we talking about?"

Russell pointed to the one Sara had shown him. "That one."

Doc shrugged it off. "That's minor. It has the same retention time as ibuprofen. That's why it wasn't analyzed."

Russell nodded. "Could be, but you can't be sure unless you do a Mass Spec, so please, Doc, just pull the blood for me. Retest it."

Doc looked at Russell for a moment and then turned to the computer. "Sure." He typed in the sample information and hit enter. A beeping sound accompanied a box that popped up, indicating that the sample had been destroyed. "Sorry. You and Sara are out of luck. Those samples were destroyed three years ago." He could see the disappointment in Russell's face and sighed. "D.B., if you feel this strongly about it, the only choice is to exhume the body."

* * *

Russell told Sara he had managed to talk Doc down. She was glad that Doc was accepting that her desire to reopen the case steamed from the discovery of new evidence and all they wanted to do was see if that evidence might help clarify the context of the previously discovered evidence. Russell also informed her that, unfortunately, the blood sample that had been tested originally was destroyed as of three years ago. To get a new sample, they needed Mr. Fisher's body, which meant they needed the family's permission to exhume it.

The only family still alive was Abby. "You're digging up my father?"

Sara had been chosen to explain it to Abby because of their close relationship. "Well, we need to do some additional testing."

"Then what happens to him?"

"He'll be re-buried."

Abby got a little hopeful. "Like a second funeral?"

"Well, there won't be a service or anything. He'll just be returned to his grave."

Abby nodded, disappointment clouding her features again. "I didn't get to go to his funeral. Or Mom's. Or Hannah's."

Sara sipped her coffee and set the mug down again. "You were still in the hospital."

Abby looked at Sara. "Did you?" Sara wasn't sure what Abby was referring to and remained silent, waiting for her to clarify her question. "Go to your father's funeral?"

Sara shook her head. "No."

"Why not?"

Regret and sorrow colored her voice as Sara shook her head again. "I wasn't allowed."

Abby nodded with understanding. "Do you miss him?"

"Yeah. I do." The two friends sat in silence, each knowing what the other felt because they had both gone through it.

* * *

Nick stood across from Doc looking down at the remains of Barry Fisher. "Guy looks pretty good for being in the ground for ten years."

"Miracle of embalming."

"Mm-hmm. So are you gonna do a full autopsy?"

Doc bristled a little at the question. "It's not necessary. Barry Fisher died from a gunshot wound to the head, and nothing is going to change that fact." Doc got to work opening up the chest cavity on Fisher so he could get to the organs.

"Well, something caused that peak on the GC. If he was under the influence of some type of drug, then maybe his death wasn't a suicide."

"If that's the case, I will change my ruling to 'undetermined.'" He pulled out the breastbone and set it aside. He then pulled the opening of the plastic bag the organs were in out of the Y incision and reached for a new tool open it.

"Well, good thing he was autopsied. Kept the organs in a plastic bag."

Doc spread the bag open. "I'm just glad the mortuary kept them in the bag after they embalmed him. Organs weren't exposed to formaldehyde." He pulled the liver out of the bag. "Best bet for identifying acute dose of a drug is the liver or the kidney."

Doc set the liver on a tray and sliced off a small section to give to Nick for him to take to the lab and have Hodges test it. They needed to know what that mystery peak was to know whether or not this case was going to move forward at all. If the peak was something as common as ibuprofen, the case would go no farther. If it wasn't… that was a different story. Nick took the sample dish from Doc and thanked him. Time for Hodges to do his magic.

* * *

**A/N: I was hoping to maybe get started on the next episode, but it didn't air here. Maybe next week...**


	19. Chapter 19

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank phnxgrl for her review. This chapter starts right were the last one left off in the episode. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 19

When Sara got the results of Doc's reexamination of Barry Fisher, she headed straight for Russell in his office. It was time this case got the look it should have gotten ten years ago. "Barry Fisher was drugged. Tox found trichloroethanol in his liver sample."

Russell took the file Sara offered him. "A metabolite of chloral hydrate, right?"

"That's what the peak was. It wasn't ibuprofen. It was a knockout drug."

Russell examined the document. "Doc changed the manner of death from 'suicide' to 'undetermined.' You were right." Sara smiled at Russell's admission before he moved on and took a seat. "Okay. Where are we?"

Sara moved her chair so she was now in front of Russell's desk. "Well… chloral hydrate is not a recreational drug. Fisher wouldn't have taken it voluntarily."

"So someone drugged him."

Sara nodded and continued her report. "Doc didn't find any injection marks on Fisher's body, but there were remnants of paper cups in the fire pit. The drug could've been put into his drink."

Russell was a bit perplexed. "Why would somebody incapacitate the husband if they were already planning on shooting him?"

"Maybe to get the gun? I mean, if the plan was to murder the family and frame the father, the killer would have had to use his gun. Fisher would not have handed it over willingly."

Sara's theory made sense, which made this crime all the more heinous. "Boy, somebody sure hated the Fishers. Kill the whole family? Those two little girls?"

The thought was sobering. "I'll see if they had any enemies. So…" Sara was hoping that with all this theory building and reporting, the case was now going to be reopened, "do I have the okay to… officially reopen the case?"

Russell smiled. "You bet."

Sara smiled too. "When Doc ruled it a suicide, I boxed up all the evidence because there wasn't going to be a trial. So… almost everything that I collected has never been processed."

"All right. Have the boxes sent to the garage. Finn and Morgan will set up the tent and work the evidence." Russell looked Sara in the eye. "You have a close personal relationship with Abby Fisher. I need you to take a backseat."

Sara nodded. "Fair enough."

* * *

Morgan had been busy setting up the tent so that when Finn came into the garage, she would have no previous knowledge about where the blood was. Finn had texted to check on the progress a while ago, but Morgan had still been placing the items in their correct positions at the time. The Blood Whisperer must have gotten anxious to look at the scene because she was now heading for the garage and Morgan hadn't finished setting up the markers indicating which blood patterns belonged to each of the victims.

At least Finn let Morgan know she was coming before she had arrived. "Hey, Morgan. You all set up?" Finn was keeping her eyes averted from the interior of the tent. She wanted the first time she looked at everything to be with fresh, unbiased eyes.

"Yep," Morgan called out to her friend. "I used Sara's original crime scene photos as a guide."

Finn lined herself up in front of the tent opening and walked straight inside. Morgan glanced at her with an expression that said "brace yourself." Once inside, Finn could see why. Blood had spattered all over the interior of the tent. Pools of it marked where everyone had fallen or laid for some time. Finn could imagine what had happened here and knew she would not have wanted to be one of the kids inside.

"Ah, those poor kids. Had no idea that their fun camping trip would end like this."

"Yeah. I, uh, placed note cards reflecting the DNA results. 'M' is for Mom, 'H' for Hannah, 'A' for Abby."

Finn looked at the sketch of the crime scene Sara had created. "All right. And according to Sara's sketch, the two girls were inside their sleeping bags over here… Hannah, Abby… and then over here, the mom."

Morgan stood. "Yeah, the nine-year-old, Hannah, had Mom's blood on her feet, so we know Mom was killed first, right over there." She pulled an "H" from the stack of note cards in her hands. "This, here, is Hannah's blood trail." She placed "H" markers next to the trail of gravitational blood drops leading from the blood pool formed from Hannah's initial injury to her sleeping bag where she'd been found.

"Hannah's wound was immediately debilitating and fatal. So she would not have been able to walk back to her bed." In her mind's eye, Finn saw a faceless figure pick up the body of Hannah and walk her to the sleeping bag. "So somebody carried her and then tucked her in."

Morgan set another note card on the ground next to another blood pool. "Well, the killer thought Abby was dead, too, 'cause he tucked her in." She pointed over her shoulder with her thumb in the direction of Abby's sleeping bag, then thought about why the killer would even bother tucking the two girls in. "Shows remorse?"

Finn had an alternate theory. "Or he wanted to make it look like it was the father. Somebody who cared about his kids."

"Yeah. Either way, looks like the killer had to touch the sleeping bags, so it could be a good source of prints. Just like the tent flap."

Finn set the sketch down on the camp table in the middle of the tent. "I'm going to swab every blood drop in here. Maybe we'll get lucky and the killer left some of himself behind."

Working together, the two swept every inch of the tent for prints and DNA. After Finn was done swabbing a sleeping bag, Morgan would take it and set it up in the fuming chamber to hopefully get some good prints. Finn was true to her word and made sure that swabs went over every drop of blood in the tent. Morgan in the meantime found an almost complete handprint on one of the bags which included a beautiful, full fingerprint. She ran it through the system and got a match.

* * *

Morgan found Sara in the layout room examining documents from the original investigation on the table. "I got prints. Some on the tent flap. Those were unidentified. But I also found one on Hannah's sleeping bag. That one paid off." She handed the folder to Sara. "Garth Fogel. He's a registered sex offender."

Sara read off the rap sheet. "Convicted of molesting a little girl back in '95."

Morgan nodded. "He was released from prison in 2004, one month before the Fishers were murdered."

Sara was looking at the picture. "He has a beard. The man that Abby remembered tucking her into her sleeping bag had a beard."

"And smelled of gun cleaner. When Fogel was arrested, police found over fifteen guns in his place."

Henry walked in. "Hey. I analyzed the blood samples Finn collected from the tent. Everything belonged to Mom and the two girls. Except for one that turned out to be animal blood."

Sara shook her head, looking for more information. "'Animal blood'?"

"I'm still testing to figure out what kind of animal it came from."

"There was no other DNA in the tent?"

Henry shrugged with his hand. "Sorry." He glanced at Morgan and remembered the other strange result he'd gotten. "But when I tested Garth Fogel's samples against the DNA samples, I got a big surprise." Sara shook her head again, still not knowing where Henry was going with this. He understood this time and explained without further prompting. "He was the biological father of the nine-year-old daughter Hannah."

Sara looked at Morgan and remembered something she'd found out years ago. "Wait, I- I knew that Barry Fisher wasn't Hannah's birth father." She was shuffling through her notes to find the information. "According to a family friend, Kathy Fisher told everyone that Hannah's father died in a car accident before she was even born."

Morgan pulled a face that said she completely agreed with Kathy. "If I were pregnant with a sex offender's baby, I'd probably lie about it, too."

Sara had a new theory. "Maybe that lie caught up with her. Got the family killed."

* * *

Nick walked into the interrogation room with a scowl on his face. "Garth Fogel?" Fogel didn't make a sound. "I'm CSI Nick Stokes." Nick sat down.

"I asked for a coffee twenty minutes ago."

"Answer some of my questions, and I'll see what I can do for you."

Fogel shrugged, trying to look innocent. "I haven't done anything wrong."

"You mean recently or ten years ago?" Nick placed a photo of the Fisher family in front of the man. "Do you recognize this family?" Fogel pushed the photo back towards Nick with barely a glance at it. "I'll take that as a no. Um… how about now?" He placed a photo of Kathy Fisher, dead on her sleeping bag in front of him. Fogel tried not to show a reaction, so Nick put down some more photos. "Oh, well, these are good. How about these?" Fogel lost his unconcerned façade and started moving around uncomfortably. "The Fishers went on a camping trip and someone slaughtered them in their tent."

Fogel gathered up the pictures, taped them into a stack, and put them in a pile in front of Nick. "Wasn't me."

"The girls were five and nine. They're really cute, really innocent. That's just the way you like them, isn't it?"

For the first time, Fogel really reacted, almost throwing himself at Nick in anger. "That's sick, you son of a bitch! She was my daughter!"

Nick wasn't impressed by his show of anger. "Sit your ass down!" Fogel sat down, but he was still breathing hard and clearly very angry. "I don't think the fact that she was your daughter would even stop a pervert like you. You probably even thought you had a right to her. You were out of prison a month and you got that itch again. Didn't ya? I think you followed the Fishers to their campsite. Drugged the dad to get him out of the way, and took his gun. Went into the tent to grab Hannah, but Kathy wasn't gonna let you take her daughter without a fight. You certainly weren't going back to prison, so you got rid of the witnesses. And there must be some shred of humanity left in you because after you shot both girls, you felt bad about it. Tucked them into their sleeping bags. Then you finished off the dad, and made it look like a murder/suicide. Sound about right?"

"That's a load of crap. I was nowhere near that family."

"Then how do you explain your fingerprint on Hannah's sleeping bag?" Nick placed the enlarged photo of the print on the sleeping bag in front of Fogel. He sat up, surprise in his posture as he looked at Nick. "You'd better start talking to me, man."

Fogel nodded. "All right. I saw them at their house. They were packing to go camping."

"What were you doing there?"

"I wanted to see my daughter. Kathy never told me that she was pregnant. I found out in prison. So I looked them up as soon as I got out."

Nick could fill in the story from here. "But Kathy wasn't gonna let you anywhere near Hannah so you followed them to the campsite."

"No! I went to their house. Kathy was packing the car and I told her that Hannah has every right to know who her real father is. And that is me!" Fogel was getting angry again, but he tried to rein it in. "Kathy told me to go to hell."

"That piss you off?"

Fogel lost control. "Yes, it pissed me off!" He took a breath. "I lost my temper, all right? I grabbed the sleeping bag and I ripped it out of the car and that is how my fingerprints got on it. Kathy threatened to call the cops, so I got the hell out of there. I never saw them after that."

* * *

Greg found Sara in the hall of the lab. "Nick thinks Fogel's lying."

"Does he have an alibi?"

Greg sounded like he didn't believe it. "Said he was with his mom."

"Great. Let's talk to her."

"She died five years ago."

Sara came to a stop and turned to face Greg. "What?!"

"Nick is getting a warrant to pull his old cell and credit card records. See if we can at least place him near Mount Charleston around the time of the murders."

Sara tapped the palm of her left hand with the side of her right. "Abby picked Fogel out of that mug book. Thought he looked familiar, she couldn't say for sure whether he's the guy that killed her family or not. There's so much she doesn't remember from the night."

Greg looked like he had a thought. "There might be a way we can help her recover those memories."

* * *

**A/N: Stay tuned for more soon. Thanks!**


	20. Chapter 20

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank phnxgrl and joann for their reviews. Is anyone else wishing football season was over so we could actually watch CSI? I'm not saying I don't like football, I just wish it wouldn't interfere with the scheduled programing. Anyway, this chapter starts with bringing Abby to Mount Charleston for a walkthrough. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 20

The fieldtrip to Mount Charleston had to wait until the next day. Greg would need time to set the replica tent up and position all the replica items within it in the exact locations they'd been at the crime scene ten years ago. A uniform drove Sara and Abby up, helped Sara get out of the car, and then went back to the driver's seat to stay out of the way. Sara had her all-terrain wheels on her chair, so navigating the rough landscape wasn't an issue. As she came around the back of the car, she could see Greg was standing by the outdoor picnic table, pictures in his hand and a camera bag in front of him. Abby was looking around at the scene with the same nervousness Sara had seen in other victims before they walked a crime scene. Greg nodded a hello and went back to the photos.

Sara stopped next to Abby. "You okay?"

Abby nodded, silent for a moment, and then turned to Sara. "Yeah." She turned back to look at the campsite again. "Just weird… being back."

Sara shook her head, knowing that trying to resurrect Abby's memories this way might help, but unsure what the cost might be. "Abby, you do not have to do this."

Abby looked Sara in the eyes, determined to see this through. "I want to." They started forward together. "So… how do we do this?" She suddenly looked a little playful. "You gonna hypnotize me or something?"

They both laughed. "No. We're just hoping that being back here might jog your memory. You know, the sights, the smells? Let your mind drift back." Abby shot Sara a skeptical look. "It's worth a shot."

Abby nodded and then started to walk slowly through the scene. She was careful, making sure to look at everything. The sounds of the woods hadn't changed in all those years and the sights were no different. If Abby wasn't fifteen, Sara would be tempted to think that the ten years since they'd last been here hadn't passed at all. Greg moved from the table so he wouldn't be in the teen's line of sight and came to stand next to Sara. In his hands was the video camera.

Sara shook her head in amazement. "You did a great job. It looks exactly like it did ten years ago."

Greg smiled. "Thanks. I even put gun cleaner inside the tent to see if it helps." He held up the camera. "And I brought this. We might need to document it for court."

"Good plan."

Greg turned the camera on and started recording Abby as she walked through the campsite. She stopped by the fire pit as though she was remembering something, then turned a full circle and walked a few more feet before stopping again. Her eyes moved to different areas of the camp and her face was pained. Sara could tell that the exercise was working; the girl was remembering things. Abby gasped slightly as the memory she'd been seeing changed to another. She walked to the tent flap and paused, her chest heaving a little as the terror of that night came back to her.

Abby opened the tent flap and paused again before ducking to go inside. Greg and Sara followed. Greg entered the tent after the teen and Sara followed, locking her brakes and sliding out of the wheelchair, leaving it outside. Abby had stopped a couple feet inside the tent, looking around. Her expression became a little wistful, as though a happy memory was on her mind. After a moment though, her eyes flashed to the sleeping bag where her mom had been shot, her face shocked and horrified. Greg was still documenting and Sara was trying to stay out of the way as best she could from her seat on the floor.

Abby's face was contorting and her breath was rushed. She was living the moments she'd been unable to recall for so long and the terror was just as real now as it had been then. Her eyes were fixed on the sleeping bag. She gasped, her eyes widening for a second, and then she headed quickly toward the place where her sleeping bag had been. Greg moved to a spot where he had a better angle and Sara started dragging her legs as she followed Abby. The teen stood partially hidden behind a partition and sank to her knees, putting her head where it would have been when she'd been five. Her features told the CSIs that she was in emotional anguish.

Sara was beginning to worry about what the teen was going through. She was about to call out her name when Abby gasped and jumped, her awareness returning to the tent in the present. Sara was sitting between Greg and Abby. He was still filming, shooting over Sara's shoulder. Abby had looked down at her hands, her face no longer in agony. After taking a few moments to collect her thoughts, she looked up, her eyes returning to the spot where Mom and Hannah had died, grief keeping her mind in the past a little.

Abby's voice was just as sad as her eyes. "Mom and Hannah. I saw them. They were dead."

Sarah kept her voice soft, trying to help Abby cope as much as she could. "I'm so sorry."

Greg's voice was also low, but Sara could detect a hint of him trying to keep the interview alive. "What else did you remember?"

Abby closed her eyes to concentrate. "The man, he…" her eyes opened, "he had a patch. On his jacket. It had antlers." She'd been looking at Sara, focused and determined, but there was a little uncertainty. "Like a deer?"

"Did you see his face?"

Abby looked distraught as she looked at Sara, shaking her head. "I couldn't make it out. He just shot them!"

Sara tried to comfort Abby. "It's okay." She reached over and grabbed her young friend's hands. "It's all right. You did great. Yeah. It's okay."

* * *

Morgan was on the computer when Finn walked in. "Henry identified the animal blood we found in the Fishers' tent." She laid the folder on the table so Morgan could see the results too. "It's elk blood."

"Oh, maybe that's what Abby saw on the killer's jacket. I mean, an elk kind of looks like a deer, just with bigger antlers."

"Okay, so we have a killer who smells like gun cleaner and has traces of elk blood on him. He's a hunter."

Morgan nodded. "And if he was wearing a jacket with a patch on it, maybe he belongs to a hunting club. There are a lot of them in Nevada."

"Any close to Mount Charleston?"

"Let's see." Morgan turned to her computer and typed in the search parameters. A gallery of pictures popped up. "This club's logo is a duck." She flipped through the logos until she reached the one for Legend Creek Hunting Club, which showed an elk in front of trees and an orange sun in the background with a lake at the bottom.

Finn pointed at it. "That one. That looks like an elk to me."

"'Legend Creek Hunting Club.'"

* * *

Sarah and Morgan walked into the hunting club to see stuffed animals everywhere. Sara looked back at Morgan. "Dead animals. Awesome."

Morgan sounded a bit creeped out. "God. That looks like they're just staring us right in the eye. So lifelike."

Sara took off her sunglasses as the man behind the counter looked up at them. "Thank you. Stuffed them myself. Right back there." He pointed at the back room and stood up, then pointed at another animal head on the wall. "That twelve-point buck? Three shots to take him down." Apparently he thought he was doing well at impressing the two ladies.

Sara, a long-time vegetarian, was not impressed. "He wanted to live."

The owner nodded, not getting what Sara really meant. "He's a beauty." He extended his hand to Morgan first. "Randy Pruitt. Club president. What can I do for you ladies?"

Morgan started introductions. "This is Sara Sidle, I'm Morgan Brody. We are with the Las Vegas crime lab." She showed her ID.

Pruitt looked confused. "Crime lab?"

Morgan pocketed her ID. "We need to take a look at all your membership records from 2004. Specifically the members who had tags to hunt elk."

Pruitt laughed. "Elk pressing charges these days?"

"We're investigating the murder of a family shot to death on Mount Charleston."

Pruitt looked at Sara, appalled. "We hunt animals, not human beings."

"Yeah, well, some people can't tell the difference."

"These people… are my friends."

Morgan wasn't moved by his plea. "I'm sorry. We're still gonna have to take a look at those records."

Pruitt became boisterously defensive, as most club owners did when being told to hand over records. "Well, our members have a right to privacy."

Sara took a warrant from the pocket hanging on the right side of her chair. "Yeah." She handed it to Pruitt. "Not anymore."

Pruitt read over the warrant and then walked to the file cabinet to get it out, his shoulders fallen slightly with defeat. He pulled out a binder, checked the spine, and then handed it to Sara. "2004."

Sara set the binder on her lap. "Thank you." The two women turned from the counter and Sara handed the binder to Morgan as they headed for the door. "Let's pull all the members that have beards and tags to hunt elk, and show the pictures to Abby."

Morgan had opened the binder and was looking at the list of names with their accompanying photos. "Let's hope she can identify our killer."

* * *

In the squad room at PD, Sara showed Abby the six-packs she'd put together, with Morgan's help, of the photos for all the men who had beards and tags to hunt elk in 2004. Abby had been flipping through the pages for several minutes now. Several times she had paused on a face, but then flipped to the next page. Sara could tell that Abby was getting frustrated and anxious. The young girl wanted to make sure she got the ID right, but Sara didn't want her to ID the wrong man. It was much better not to make a positive ID, than to ID the wrong man in the first place.

"Take your time, okay?"

Abby nodded and then flipped a couple more pages. She stared for several moments on the face in the upper right hand corner, eyes wide, before pointing to the picture. "That's him."

"Are you sure?"

She nodded again. "Positive."

Sara put her phone to her ear. "Yeah, we got an ID. Donald Wraith. Lives in Henderson."

* * *

Nick had accompanied the officers who'd driven to Henderson to arrest Donald Wraith. When they arrived, his truck was sitting in the middle of the road with the engine on. Nick was confused because it was just idling there. The officers parked behind the truck and one grabbed a rifle from the trunk of his squad car. They prepped their guns and started heading for the truck. Nick took the driver's side with Officer Akers at his shoulder, ready to switch to covering the passenger's side if necessary. The cop with the rifle was in position to keep watch from the back so if Nick and Akers got ambushed, he would be in a position to end it.

Nick could see Wraith's face in the side view mirror and raised his gun. "Donald Wraith! LVPD! Turn off the engine!"

"Out of the truck!" Akers pointed his weapon at the ground as he crossed behind the cop with the rifle.

Nick was staring Wraith down. "Get out." Akers was traveling down the passenger side. "I said get out!"

Nick swung out from the truck to point his gun directly at Wraith only to discover that there was a gunshot wound to his forehead. Wraith's lack of any response became clear. He was already dead, and dead men can't respond to commands. Akers was looking in through the open passenger side window, eyes fixed on the bright red streaks of blood running down the man's face. Both Nick and Akers holstered their weapons and the rifle wielding cop stood down. Wraith wasn't a threat to anyone now.

Nick looked at Akers. "Looks like the hunter became the hunted."

* * *

**A/N: In police shows at least, a six-pack usually refers to a pages with six mug shots on them that are shown to witnesses in hopes of procuring an ID. Not sure if that terminology is used in the real world as well. Leave a comment below if you know the answer, I'd love to find out! :)**


	21. Chapter 21

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank phnxgrl for her review. This chapter starts where the last one left off and will wrap up the episode. Thanks for reading and enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 21

Nick was busy taking pictures of the crime scene when David arrived. The assistant coroner was looking around at the trees when Nick noticed him. "Hey, Super Dave. Sorry to drag you all the way out here, man."

It sounded like David was smiling. "You kidding me? Trees, good clean air. It's nice to be out in nature." David opened the driver's side door and set his kit down by his feet so he'd have better access to the victim.

Nick picked up a bullet casing. "Nine millimeter casing. The ammo's consistent with the victim's gun."

David was looking at the entry wound. "Powder burns indicate he was shot at close range."

Nick looked at Wraith's right hand. "Yeah, but he couldn't have shot himself. The gun would have fallen out of his hand."

David extracted the gun from the victim's hand. "Killer tried to make it look like a suicide."

Nick cocked his head in agreement and then photographed the gun in Phillip's hands. "Abby Fisher IDs Donald Wraith as the man who shot her family. We come out here to pick him up and find him murdered?"

"Maybe to keep him quiet?"

"Maybe. Sounds to me like someone else was involved in this massacre ten years ago."

* * *

Russell walked into his office with Sara at his heels. "I thought Abby Fisher only remembers one man in the tent that night."

"Doesn't mean that somebody else wasn't there. Garth Fogel."

"The pedophile?"

Sara nodded. "Yeah, we haven't cleared him as a suspect. And so far, I haven't been able to find a connection between Donald Wraith and the Fisher family."

"So, you're thinking Wraith's connection is with Fogel."

"Maybe they were friends. Fogel wanted his daughter. The Fishers weren't going to give her back without a fight. Maybe he brings Wraith for backup."

Russell nodded. "Go prove it."

Sara laughed as she left. Proving it might be harder than they'd like.

* * *

Morgan walked into Trace to see Hodges writing on a small whiteboard. "Hey."

Hodges didn't look up. "Hey."

"Nick said he found trace on Donald Wraith's gun. Were you able to identify it?"

Hodges put down the board. "Yeah, it was a type of resin. Traditionally, a hydrocarbon secretion from plants, resins were a prized possession in the ancient world. I'm sure you're familiar with frankincense and myrrh."

"Gifts for baby Jesus."

Hodges nodded. "You're a wise woman. But in this day and age, humans have been able to create synthetic resins that are much stronger and more versatile than their natural predecessors." Hodges handed Morgan the results report. "As in this case, we have a unique blend of methyl methacrylate, thixotropic and a polymerization catalyst."

Morgan had stopped paying attention to Hodges when he mentioned synthetic resins. "Aren't synthetic resins used a lot in construction?"

Hodges nodded. "Yes, but…"

Morgan interrupted. "Because Garth Fogel works as a laborer for a construction company. If we can prove he had access, then we…" Hodges had started smiling during Morgan's theory and then interrupted by holding up his hands while making it very obvious he wanted to speak. Morgan trailed off, confused by what Hodges was doing.

Hodges was quick to fill the silence with the explanation. "You didn't let me finish."

"Sorry."

"The chemical structure of this particular resin is only used in one industry. Taxidermy."

Clarity filled Morgan's eyes. "Taxidermy." They had the wrong man in mind.

"Does Garth Fogel have a penchant for stuffing woodland creatures?"

Morgan smiled. "No. But I know someone who does. Thank you."

Hodges cocked an eyebrow as Morgan left. He didn't know who she was referring to, but obviously his information just gave her what she needed to prove who was responsible for killing the Fisher family. He smiled as she hurried down the hall. It was Trace for the win today.

* * *

Sara sat in the interrogation room with the suspect across the table from her. "You lied to me, Randy. You said you didn't hunt people. But you murdered Donald Wraith. And you murdered the Fisher family."

Pruitt smiled and laughed, trying to use it as a way to convince her she was wrong. "No, no, I didn't."

"We found a clear cast resin on Donald Wraith's gun. It's the same resin that you purchased two weeks ago for your taxidermy." Sara placed a picture of Wraith's gun in his hand in front of Pruitt.

Pruitt looked at Sara and then the picture before looking up again. "Is- is that all you've got?"

Sara smirked. Of course that wasn't all she had. If it was, they wouldn't be having this conversation right now. "No, I have motive. You and Donald Wraith killed the Fishers ten years ago. Donald was about to be arrested, so you killed him so he wouldn't implicate you. But you had already implicated yourself." Sara put the fingerprint result in front of Pruitt. "We pulled your fingerprints off the file that you gave us at the hunting club and it was a match to prints from inside the tent that the family was slaughtered in." Pruitt was looking sick. "What happened, Randy?! Did you get tired of hunting elk? Did you want your prey to beg for mercy?"

He finally looked up. "It wasn't like that. We never planned on killing anyone."

"What was your plan?"

"Donald wanted to have some fun with the wife. Her and her husband came by the shop, asked directions." Pruitt told Sara about the encounter with the couple in the shop, how Donald had been eyeing the wife while he gave directions to the trail head.

"You followed them back to the campsite?" Pruitt nodded and Sara moved on. "You had to get the husband out of the way. How did you drug him, exactly?"

"Saw him sitting alone at the fire. Pretended we were camping nearby. We… brought over some booze. When he wasn't looking, we slipped him a Mickey."

"You know, most people don't just walk around, carrying chloral hydrate on them, unless they've done this kind of thing before." Sara stared at Pruitt and the man became a little uncomfortable, knowing she knew what his admission just told her. "What happened after Fisher passed out?"

"I stood guard while Donald went in the tent."

"With Barry Fisher's gun."

Pruitt shook his head. "He was only gonna threaten her, keep her quiet."

"But she fought back."

"I heard a shot. Then two more. We didn't know they had children." Puitt looked away from Sara, emotion clogging her voice a little. "Donald said the girls saw his face, so he had to kill 'em." Sara looked away. "I took them back into their sleeping bags, while he went out to take care of the husband."

Sara nodded, then tsked and shook her head. "There's a problem with your story, Randy. The youngest daughter survived." Pruitt looked surprised and worried to know that Abby was alive. "And she identified Donald Wraith as the person that put her back into the sleeping bag. Not you. He's the one that felt bad. And I am willing to bet… that you are the one that pulled the trigger that night." Pruitt stared at her defiantly. "Either way, your hunting days are over."

Sara glanced up at the officer standing in the corner and he moved in to take Randy Pruitt to the holding cells. Pruitt was still staring at Sara in defiance, the fear and regret in his eyes when he told his story or heard Sara mention Abby had lived long gone now. The DA would have to figure out how to charge Pruitt for the Fishers' murders. The evidence proving that he was the one to pull the trigger that night was admittedly lacking, but there was no denying he had been in that tent. And it was clear that he had been the one to kill Donald Wraith. Sara settled back in her chair, satisfied that Abby was finally going to get justice for her family.

* * *

Sara was glad when she got to tell the teen what had happened. "So… they didn't even know us?"

Sara nodded. "They were just bad people. And you and your family were in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Abby shook her head, anger chocking her up. "That's messed up."

Sara redirected the conversation. "Your father was innocent."

Abby's face scrunched up in grief. "All these years, I blamed him. Hated him. Thought he killed Mom and Hannah. Tried to kill me."

Sara put a hand on her shoulder. "You can let that all go now. Your dad was a good man. And he loved you very much." Joanna came around the corner and Sara waved.

Abby looked up at her adoptive mother with a slight smile on her face. "Hey, ready to go home?"

Abby nodded. "Yeah." She turned on the bench and hugged Sara. "Thank you."

Sara smiled. "Any time." The blond stood and went with Joanna until Sara called out. "Oh, One D's playing at the Hard Rock Saturday night. You in?"

Abby looked at Sara like she was out of her mind. "One Direction? Seriously?"

Sara smiled. "No, I'm just kidding. It's Lorde, I'll pick you up at seven."

Abby smiled and nodded. "Cool." Joanna smiled as well and the two left together.

* * *

Sara's conversation with Greg happened just after Sara finished talking to Abby. He had known the general idea of what had happened to Sara's parents, but the details and circumstances had never been brought up before. Sara got to tell him exactly what had happened that night and what happened to her mother because of it. She also showed him the picture of her dad that she kept in her locker. He held it up, comparing Sara now with the picture of him then.

"You look like your dad."

Sara smiled. "He used to read to me when I was a kid." Greg handed back the picture and Sara picked it up to look at as she spoke. "Charlotte's Web was my favorite. Must've read it a hundred times."

"That's a nice memory."

Sara looked at Greg. "I have a lot of nice memories of him. My mom, too. They were toxic when they were together, though."

Greg was hesitant. "Your mom said your dad was abusive? She killed him in self-defense?"

"That's what she said."

"You don't believe her?"

Sara shook her head, uncertain. "Look, I know my dad wasn't a saint, but my mom was an alcoholic who suffered from mental illness. I'm just not sure that things were as black and white as she made them out to be."

Greg thought for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "Well, you did say they had a volatile relationship."

Sara shook her head. "Fact is… I'll never know what happened that night." Sara took a deep breath and sighed. "This is gonna sound horrible, but I'm kind of jealous of Abby." Greg looked confused and Sara explained what she meant. "She gets to rewrite her whole family history. Nothing will ever change what my mother did."

Greg sat up and leaned toward Sara. "Well, you can't change the past, but you always have the future. Your mom's still alive. It's not too late for you to start over."

Sara shook her head. "I don't know if I could."

* * *

**A/N: And that's it for the adaptation of this episode. This story will probably be on hiatus until a new episode airs. I am working on an "episode" that will be like Sara's review (that means not cannon), but I won't be posting it until it is complete. Thanks for reading and stay tuned.**


	22. Chapter 22

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank phnxgrl, stlouiegal, and joann for their reviews. stlouiegal: Welcome to the story! I feel I should clarify something you mentioned in your review real quick. I said I wasn't sure when Grissom would appear in this story, and if he does show up, he will not be automatically shipped with Sara. Sorry to all you GSR shippers out there, but after their divorce and the way Sara was show to feel about it, I think any relationship between them needs to be earned. joann: I'm glad I finally have some material to work with now that two new episodes have come out with some actual Sara screen time. This chapter is the beginning of my adaptation of "Merchants of Menace". Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 22

Morgan met Russell outside and walked with him into the Murderabilia venue to bring him up to speed. "Victim's name is Damon Harlow. He and his business partner there," she gesture to the partner, "started this interesting little swap meet attracting 'Murderabilia' buffs from across the region."

"Murderabilia?"

"True crime collectibles: artwork, autographs, mementos, all from famous killers."

Russell was looking around at the displays. "Where'd they get all this crap?"

"Some of it comes from police property auctions; others are gifts from incarcerated killers. As long as the convicts aren't directly profiting," they ducked under the police tape around the crime scene, "it's legal to sell this stuff." As they approached the car, Morgan's face twisted in disgust.

Russell was looking at the poster boards advertising the car that was now a crime scene. "Including the car belonging to Lucas Reem."

They stopped by the car. "With our fresh kill here, Damon Harlow." Morgan looked up at the boards. "You know, I remember that summer. I was twelve years old, my parents were still together, we were living in Vegas. That monster was killing a new girl every few weeks. I watched my mom triple-check the locks every night."

"Yeah, it was a… it was a big deal up north, too." Russell crossed behind Morgan to get a different angle on the crime scene. "Reem confessed to all ten murders, right? Yet he still lingered on death row for how long?"

Morgan looked up. "Twenty years. Finally got the needle a few months ago. And now these guys want to memorialize him. Keep his legacy alive."

"Yeah, it's a little disturbing." Russell turned to look at the crowd. "Roomful of people fixated on murder."

Morgan had turned too. "Maybe one of them more committed than the rest."

* * *

While Russell set up to process and interview the witnesses, Morgan got started photographing the crime scene. She started with several close-ups of the body and then walked around the car to get pictures from all angles around it. Greg and David were on their way to help out. The assistant coroner arrived first and got right to work processing Harlow's body. He started by taking a few pictures of the body in the car and then stuck the thermometer in his abdomen to get the liver temp to estimate time of death.

David pulled the thermometer from the victim's body. "Liver temp puts time of death about ten hours ago. So, midnight." He glanced at Harlow's torso. "We're looking at approximately… a dozen stab wounds."

Morgan nodded. "Cast-off and spatter indicates that he was killed in the car, not posed here after." She noticed a pattern on the driver's side window frame and bent to get a close-up of it. "Unusual blood pattern. Looks like something brushed through the spatter."

David glance uneasily at the crowd still gathered outside the tape. "Special breed of lookie-loos in this place."

Morgan was looking at them with something akin to bored irritation on her face. "Nah, they're just figuring out how much the fresh carnage increases the value of the car."

In the meantime, Russell was fingerprinting and questioning the victim's business partner, Alex Friel. "You think I'm dealing in blood money selling this stuff."

"I think the city of Milwaukee got it right when they took all of Jeffery Dahmer's possessions, shoved them into a landfill." Russell adjusted his gloves and handed Friel a wipe to get the ink off his fingers.

"Nothing like this has ever happened. Damon and I put on these events a few times a year."

"So when was the last time you had contact with Damon?"

"Yesterday." Friel started wiping his fingers to clean them off. "He called to say he wanted to get the car ready. He didn't show up this morning, didn't answer my calls."

Russell shook his head slightly in confusion. "And yet you went right ahead with the auction?"

Friel rushed to defend himself. "Damon was troubled, okay? Drinking, depression. Either could take hold of him for a few days. This car is a huge sale. I had buyers here from all over."

"I understand." Russell picked up the ten card. "Got to give them what they came for, right? Let me ask you one more thing. Did Damon have any enemies you knew of?"

"He had a temper. Got into it sometimes with customers, other dealers, but it never got violent. Look, these collectors are good people."

"Well, you'll forgive me if I don't take my reading from your moral compass."

Now that Harlow's body had been removed from the car, Morgan was taking some pictures of the interior. She spotted some voids in the dust that were roughly the shape of fingertips and took a few pictures of that. Greg had finally arrived and he ducked under the tape with his eyes on the car.

"Fifty grand for a car? You'd think they'd at least wipe the dust off."

"These collectors want it exactly as Lucas Reem left it. Although he didn't leave those fresh fingerprints there on the dashboard, so I'm gonna run them."

David's camera started beeping at him. "Memory card's full. I got to get another camera."

David walked away and Morgan showed Greg the pictures she had taken so far. Soon after David crossed the tape, two of the lookie-loos hurried forward and ducked under the tape.

The redhead was more eager than his friend. "Hurry up, dude." They rushed to the gurney. Greg and Morgan looked up in shock.

"Hey, hey, hey!"

Mitch saw them too and rushed over to stop them as Greg ran around the car to shove them away from the body. They were both too late to stop the pair from doing anything though; the boys had already snapped a selfie with the body. Morgan had stayed with her kit to run the prints she'd photographed.

Greg had to keep shoving them because the boys didn't want to budge. "Get out of here."

Mitch finally was able to move the pair away from the gurney. "Give me your IDs. Come on." The boys reluctantly handed their licenses over. "I'll run them."

"What the hell are you guys doing?" Greg was irritated that these two would be brazen enough to possibly contaminate the crime scene or body.

The redhead seemed to be the spokesman for them. "Wanted to take a look. Maybe get a selfie." He held up his phone with a grin.

The taller one glanced to the body, smiling in his excitement. "We've just never seen a real vic before."

"Yeah, well, I've seen plenty, and there's nothing fun about it."

The redhead jerked his thumb in Mitch's direction. "What's that cop doing with our licenses exactly?"

"He's checking to see if you're criminals. Or just idiots. I mean, Lucas Reem?" Greg noticed the redhead was wearing a Nate Haskell shirt. "Nate Haskell? How would you feel if it was your loved ones they attacked?"

Mitch handed the IDs to Greg. "No records, but I'll cuff them."

Both boys looked from Greg to Mitch in fear, the reality of what they'd done hitting them for the first time. Greg looked at them and decided to cut them some slack. "Why don't we give them a break, Mitch. As long as you guys promise to find more respectable hobbies. Got to be something cooler to do in…" he looked at the address on their licenses, "'Dead Owl Creek'?"

The taller one shook his head slowly no before they took back their licenses. Mitch went with Greg's suggestion. "Get out of here."

Morgan had gotten a result while Mitch and Greg were dealing with the two knuckleheads. "Greg. Come take a look at this." Greg walked around the car and looked at what she'd found. "The prints from the dashboard come back to a casino worker named Nora Waters." Morgan pointed to one of the boards near the car. "Her sister was one of Lucas Reem's victims back in '95."

"So, what do we think? Nora came here? To the place where her sister's killer is being celebrated?"

Morgan set down her laptop. "Maybe to put an end to this whole circus."

* * *

Nora Waters was in I2 waiting to be interviewed. Sara looked at her through the door to see a woman who had seen something traumatic at a young age. Sara knew those eyes; the vacant stare. She had seen them on other victims. Abby had those eyes sometimes. Sara opened the door and rolled inside. Nora barely glanced in her direction before returning her gaze to a spot in the middle of the air.

"My name is Sara Sidle and I'll be asking you some questions if that's okay." There was no answer from Nora. "Okay, uh, do you know about the Murderabilia convention in town right now? They are auctioning off the car that Lucas Reem drove. Have you been anywhere near there?" Still no answer. "Your fingerprints say that you were in that car." There was finally a small reaction as Sara placed the page with the fingerprint results on the table in front of her. "Nora, we need to know what you were doing there."

Nora's eyes looked at Sara's for a moment, but then she blinked and returned her gaze to the middle distance. Sara was getting nowhere going at her like this. Nora was stone walling Sara because that was the easy way to go here. The brunette needed another strategy. Maybe she should make this a bit more personal.

"All right, um…" Sara glanced away from Nora and softened her tone. "Look, I know about your family's history with Lucas Reem."

Nora looked up. "Our history? You mean how Lucas Reem butchered my sister?" She was angry, a slow simmer that gave a dangerous color to her voice whenever the pain of her past surfaced again.

Sara knew that pain personally. "Sorry to bring you back there."

"Seven years old, seeing that. Home alone with your big sister when that man slips in through the window, comes creeping down the hall." Nora's eyes were back to the middle distance, but this time she was remembering the moments when her sister was murdered. "Rachel helped me hide in the closet. Lucas Reem had no idea I was there. Inches away while he… hurt her."

Sara shook her head. "That's something that no one should have to go through. I can only imagine how angry you must have felt about Reem's car being auctioned off."

"You think that I killed Damon?"

"Damon? Wait, you knew the victim?" Sara was taken by surprise at this.

"Knew him? I loved him."

Sara was really confused now. "I don't understand."

"Damon and I were dating for the past year. I heard about him online, what he did for a living. 'Murderabilia.' I sent him this awful e-mail, telling him he should be ashamed of himself, if not locked up." Nora had sounded disgusted through the rant, but she paused and her tone softened. "And then he took me to coffee. And he told me everything that he'd studied about Lucas Reem and other serials. The history, the psychology. Damon was a student, exploring the darkest parts of humanity. Selling off some artifacts helped him support his studies."

Sara paused to regroup. "When exactly were you in the car at the convention site?"

"Yesterday morning. Damon was getting the car ready. I sat in it with him, feeling its strange energy. And I felt safe. Because Damon was with me."

After everything Nora had told her, Sara didn't think she was the murderer. They still needed to get her alibi though. "I have to ask. Where were you last night at midnight?"

Nora's simmering anger returned at the implied accusation. "In bed. I couldn't sleep. The same as it's been for the last twenty years."

* * *

Russell heard arguing coming from the direction of the police waiting room and headed there to find out what was going on. An older gentleman was pleading with the officer on duty. "Please, I just want someone to tell me what this is all about. Her name is Nora Waters. And she was told to come down here. I want to know what's happening."

"Excuse me. Can I help you?"

The man turned to Russell. "Yes, my daughter, Nora, was told to come…"

Russell interrupted. "I- I understand. Understand. Um, your daughter's in, talking to a colleague of mine. I- I'm D.B. Russell." The supervisor extended his hand.

The gentleman took it. "Bruce Waters. Can you tell me what this is all about?"

"Your daughter's fingerprints were found at the scene of a homicide."

Mr. Waters looked very confused. "What?"

"The victim's name was a Damon Harlow. Did you know Mr. Harlow?"

Waters took a deep breath in and looked down when he let it out. "Yes, yes, I know who he is. And I know my daughter is friends with him. Wait, you're not thinking she did something?"

Russell wanted to tell the father what was going on, but legally he couldn't. "I'm sorry. There's not much more I can tell you about an ongoing investigation."

"Were you here back then, twenty years ago? Lucas Reem? Were you one of the ones we dealt with?"

Russell shook his head. "No, sir, I was not. But I'm aware of the case and what your family went through."

"Well, then you know why… Nora is… fragile. Doesn't always make the right choices in her life. Dating a man like Damon Harlow, who profits from others' suffering." Waters paused to regain his composure. "But my wife and I… see, Nora is all we've got. I- I will do whatever I've got to do to protect her."

"I'd do the same for my daughter."

* * *

**A/N: I appreciate the reviews, so please spare a minute to leave one in the box below. Thanks for your support!**


	23. Chapter 23

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank phnxgrl and joann for their reviews. In this chapter, I've summarized a few scenes to get to the Sara scenes quicker and I also added to the scene where Nora is interviewed like I did with the one from the last chapter. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 23

While Doc was still busy with the autopsy of Damon Harlow, Nick went to see what he had so far so they could get a jump on the investigation. Doc told him that Harlow had eleven stab wounds that were made by a two inch wide blade. Doc had then noticed that there was a piece of something just under the rib cage. Nick took that bone fragment up to Hodges and Henry to see what they could make of it. Hodges took a look and determined the bone had been hand sharpened into a knife. Henry had run the DNA and found that the knife was human and had come from none other than the serial killer Lucas Reem.

Russell stared at the screen that showed the results Nick was showing him. "The bone of a dead serial killer, sharpened into a knife and then used to kill again."

Nick nodded. "Yeah. It's a whole new level of demented."

Russell turned around. "It's kind of like the old days when they used the bones of dead saints to make souvenirs and jewelry. The belief being that the bones still carried some of the saint's essence."

Nick looked troubled. "Yeah, but these guys, these conventions, they worship serial killers. Maybe one of them took a fragment from Lucas Reem, committed a crime in a way to honor his idol."

"Right."

"Yeah."

Morgan walked in. "I agree. And I think that Damon Harlow was killed by his own merchandise. I found this article," she pulled it up on her tablet, "from a couple days ago. The same arrangement of the stuff that he had on the table from the convention today, but with one additional item, now missing." She zoomed in on the picture.

Nick noticed what she was talking about. "Bone-bladed knife. Killer must have swiped it right off of Harlow's table."

Russell nodded and Morgan continued. "I also spoke to Harlow's business associate, Alex Friel; he said he knew that Damon had been dipping into shadier collectibles, like the bones of serial killers, but he just looked the other way."

"Shady business brings shady people." Nick turned from Morgan to Russell. "Maybe Harlow was doing some after-hours deal with somebody, and the sale just went sideways."

Morgan nodded. "And Harlow paid with his life."

"So if the killer swiped the knife off the table, maybe he left something behind."

Russell agreed. "That's a good idea. Let's check the tablecloth for touch DNA."

"I was also thinking, since Harlow was dealing in illicit goods, it might make sense to learn about the product. The knife. You know, it might bring us closer to some of his shadier associates."

Morgan had a point and Russell agreed with her line of thought. "Because one of them might be our killer."

Nick pointed at the screen. "Well, based on the cortical bone width of the fragment, the bone used to make the blade came from Lucas Reem's tibia. But now listen. The prison doctor did say that Reem wasn't missing any bones at the time of his execution."

Russell nodded. "So the tibia had to be removed from him after death to make the knife."

"Exactly."

"Question is, where was Lucas Reem's tibia and the rest of him after his execution?"

* * *

Russell met with the mortician who had handled Lucas Reem's body in his office. Ray Narvick claimed that the body had been stolen while he went to take a phone call. When asked why he didn't report the theft, Narvick said he thought the families of Reem's victims should believe that Reem was nothing more than ash. He then handed over a liquor bottle he had found near his place of business after the theft occurred.

Finn processed the bourbon bottle and pulled a few good prints. When she ran them, AFIS informed her that they belonged to a man named Todd Spanna. She googled his name and found a website Spanna ran that promoted him as the "Man Who Brought Down Lucas Reem". Nick came in to see what Finn had found and told her the real story behind Spanna's involvement. Uniforms brought their body theft suspect in to PD and Nick went in to interview Spanna. Spanna told them the only people who would steal a serial Killer's body were those who sold items like that on the Blood Market.

The username and password the Spanna gave Nick got Finn into the website. Users on the site would post requests for specific items and others would respond, or sellers would post pictures of the items they had to sell and people would bid to get the item. Everything was for sale. Snuff films, bloody murder weapons; if you were looking for it, chances were someone knew how you could find it. Finn shuddered at the depravity of some human beings. She typed Lucas Reem into the search box and was redirected to a page where one user was requesting Lucas Reem bone-bladed knives frequently.

Russell walked in. "How you doing with this Blood Market Web site?"

"Well, I could use a shower after looking at some of this stuff. So it turns out that the murder weapon is not the only knife made from Lucas Reem's bones. Rumored to be eight of them out there."

Russell looked surprised. "Any idea who has them?"

"No, but there is a user who is trying to track them down. He goes by the name of DesertSky60, and he has spent the last month asking about those knives. I ran his username through a search engine, to see if it would pop up on any other site, and I found this profile. 'DesertSky60' is Bruce Waters."

Russell shook his head. This didn't make sense. Why would Bruce be trying to track down knives made from the bones of the man who'd slaughtered his daughter? It was also a disappointment. Bruce had seemed like a genuinely good man. To see that he was a potential suspect made Russell sick.

He took a step back. "Wow, Bruce Waters. The guy is chasing the relics of the man who killed his daughter."

Finn had a theory. "Yeah, maybe hunting them down so that he can destroy them once and for all?"

Russell liked her theory better than the ones in his head. "Maybe."

Finn turned back to the computer. "This is even more interesting." She clicked on a link. "During his last exchange, another user was telling him, 'There's a middleman named Damon. He can hook you up with whatever you want.'"

"Damon Harlow."

Finn nodded. "Mm-hm. Then Waters replied, 'I know Damon. Family connection. I'll see what he can do.' That was one day before Damon Harlow was killed."

"Bruce Waters didn't mention any of this when I met with him."

"So maybe he wasn't just going after the Lucas Reem knives, but the people selling them."

This theory was sounding more plausible considering what Waters had said when Russell had spoken to him earlier. "He did say that Damon Harlow was profiting from the suffering of others."

Morgan walked in with a folder. "DNA came back on the tablecloth that the knife was snatched from. There was only one identifiable contributor. A male familial match to Nora Waters."

Morgan showed the results to Morgan and Russell, who looked at each other. Their theory had just been confirmed. "It was her father. Bruce Waters picks up the knife, then he makes Damon Harlow suffer."

* * *

Nick and Sara got busy trying to track down Waters. According to Mrs. Waters, Bruce had taken off in the middle of the day and she hadn't seen him since. There had also been no activity on his credit cards up to this point. Sara had Crawford issue a BOLO on Waters' vehicle and they were monitoring his cards to see if he would surface at all. The problem was he was now their prime suspect. If he thought he was in danger of being caught, it was an easy thing to just hop on the highway and disappear.

When Nick informed Russell of their progress, the lab supervisor said that Waters had been adamant about protecting his daughter. Their theory became that Waters had risked coming in after he had killed Damon to ensure that Nora didn't go down for the murder he had committed before fleeing. The order to bring Nora back in for more questions was issued. Uniforms picked her up soon after and brought her PD to wait.

Sara rolled into the informal interview room to speak to Nora Waters for the second time. "Nora, we need to talk to your father. Now, your mom says that he left after lunch and she hasn't seen him since. Do you know where we might find him?"

"No, I'm sorry."

"Nora, this is serious. We need to find him."

Nora was getting agitated. "I told you, I don't know where he is."

Sara sighed. "Nora, your father was hunting Lucas Reem's remains. That hunt led him to Damon, and I think it made him snap, knowing that his surviving daughter was dating a man who kept relics of Lucas Reem. We have evidence of him there at the convention site. We believe that he killed Damon."

Nora wouldn't look at Sara. "That's not what happened."

"Then tell me what happened."

Nora finally looked up. "My dad came to me a few days ago. He had tears in his eyes. He told me what he'd heard. Pieces of Lucas Reem out there for sale," Nora had gotten to the point where she was so mad she was speaking through clenched teeth. She looked down and sniffed, collecting herself again. "He asked if Damon could help track them down."

Nora told Sara about the meeting they'd had with Damon at the convention about the knives. How Damon told them he had gotten in contact with the person selling them and had set up the meet. The seller was going to meet Waters behind the Palermo at eight o'clock and was expecting twenty grand in cash.

Sara interrupted. "Wait, are you saying that that deal was gonna happen tonight?"

Nora was confused. "A few hours ago, yeah."

"Why didn't you tell me all this before?"

"Because Dad was hell-bent on getting those relics and destroying them." Nora acted like questioning her father's motives was ridiculous and insulting. "This might have been his only chance. I didn't want anyone getting in Dad's way."

Sara sat back in her chair. If her new theory of the crime was right, then Damon was killed by the seller of the Lucas Reem knives, not Nora's father. This meant there was a good chance that the deal was going to go sideways when the seller realized that Waters didn't have the amount he was asking for and only wanted to destroy them. Sara just hoped it wasn't too late already.

* * *

Nick drove them down to the lot behind the Palermo. It was a maze of construction equipment, empty display cases, and plastic wrapped appliances. There was any number of places to hide when conducting shady business. Nick parked the car and brought her chair around so Sara could get out. They clicked on their flashlights and headed into the maze.

"Deal was supposed to go down somewhere in this lot."

Nick crossed behind her and shined his light on the equipment over there. "Whatever Bruce Waters might have done, he's a desperate dad. It's hard not to feel sorry for him. He probably thought he was just doing right by his family."

Sara's beam of light landed on a pool of blood. "Nick, there's some blood over here."

Sara provided the light as Nick came over. She had failed her first firearms qualification after the forensics conference and was forced to give up her gun until she re-qualified. The next time she could try wasn't for a couple months, so for now, she was without a weapon. Nick walked toward the source of the blood with his hand on his gun, ready to draw if need be. They both proceeded forward until they could see around the bucket on the earth mover. Bruce Waters' body was on his back in the dirt.

"Oh, Bruce. What'd you go and get yourself into, man?"

Bruce was covered in blood, the castoff from the attack on his face and shirt as well as the dirt around him. He also had areas on his shirt that had become saturated with blood around the places he'd been stabbed. Nick knelt beside him and checked for a pulse.

"No, no, he's gone." Sara directed her light over the surrounding area while Nick called it in. "Charlie oh four Stokes. We've got a four nineteen. Roll homicide and a coroner to my location."

Sara spotted a gun and bent over in her chair to pick it up and secure it. "I got a Beretta." She ejected the magazine and checked it. "Magazine doesn't have a single scratch from loading. I don't think there's ever been a bullet in this gun. Whoever brought this had no intention of using it."

"You know what I think? I think he never had the twenty grand to buy those bone-bladed knives, and he brought that gun out here to do some negotiating."

Sara nodded. "They called his bluff. He underestimated who he was bargaining with."

Nick was counting the holes in Waters' shirt. "And it looks like he was stabbed at least ten times. And there's some silver-colored trace here." Hopefully Hodges would have some luck with it.

Sara was leaning over Waters' body looking at his face. "Nick, there's something in his mouth." She pulled a pair of tweezers from her vest and carefully extracted what was poking out from between the victim's lips.

Nick was looking at it with a little revulsion. "What the hell is that?"

* * *

**A/N: For anyone curious about human anatomy, the tibia is the larger of the two bones in the lower part of the leg. Also, I doubt there will be a new CSI episode on Superbowl Sunday, so I'm going to just keep working on the episodes from this past week. Stay tuned!**


	24. Chapter 24

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank phnxgrl, joann, and stlouiegal for their reviews. stlouiegal: Is Sara really okay? Well, I haven't thought about doing a side story dealing with that yet, but that would be a good storyline to explore. I'll see if I can come up with a suitable storyline to explore that. Thanks for the suggestion! joann: That's what I figured. The football game will probably interrupt some viewers' program schedules. Oh well. This chapter starts where the last chapter ended in the episode. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 24

Morgan caught up with Sara to ask about what they'd found at the site of the deal gone wrong. "What was it that the victim had in his mouth?"

"The odd object from the victim's mouth was actually a strand of black suede, like from a fringed suede jacket." Sara stopped in front of the computer in the layout room and stood up to pull up the report. "Bruce Waters must have bit it off his assailant while tangled up with him. And Bruce Waters' assailant was wearing the exact jacket that Lucas Reem is wearing in this photo."

"Got all that from one strand of suede?"

"Henry ran DNA on the strand, found a contribution from Lucas Reem himself."

Morgan smiled. "You mean to tell me now there's somebody out there that's not only collecting Lucas Reem's bones, but is now wearing his jacket?"

Sara shook her head in disgust. "Kind of feels like someone's trying to bring him back to life."

Morgan was spooked. "Yeah." She had a thought and turned to the table to find a photo. "You know what, there were…" She found it. "Right here. I remember there were odd blood patterns at Damon Harlow's crime scene. Take a look at that." She handed Sara the photo.

"Fringe from a jacket could have caused that pattern."

Morgan nodded. "It looks like the same killer that killed Damon Harlow killed Bruce Waters."

Sara nodded in agreement. "Good bet. All right, so how do we think it all played out?"

"Well, Damon Harlow agreed to help Bruce find the bone knives, set him up with a seller. Hours later, Harlow is killed."

"The next night, Bruce Waters goes to meet the seller, and Bruce is killed."

Morgan had a theory. "Maybe the seller knew he was being set up. Knew that Bruce Waters was the buyer and that Bruce's only reason to want those relics was to destroy them."

Sara could see where Morgan was going. "Seller wasn't happy about being played, so he kills Harlow for the betrayal, and he takes Bruce out at the buy-site."

"So who out there is wearing that jacket and two murders?"

* * *

"What can you tell me about this and who has it?" Nick set a photo of Reem wearing the fringed jacket on the break room table and slid it in front of Todd Spanna.

"Mmm. That jacket would be a primo item." Spanna looked up at Nick. "But I don't know who has it."

"But you know who might know, am I right?"

Spanna shrugged. "Mm." He was hiding something.

Nick grinned and laughed. Lying wasn't Spanna's strong suit. "Oh, come one, Todd, give me that much."

"Maybe."

"So how do I meet some of these Blood Market traders face-to-face?"

Spanna scoffed. "No, these cats do not talk to cops."

Nick was a little offended Spanna thought he was that stupid. "Well, I won't go as a cop. I'll go as, uh, a collector." Spanna laughed and Nick eventually joined in as he sat down. "You can laugh all you want, but the title of your memoir was "Cracking the Case.'" That took some of the wind out of Spanna's sails. "Don't let me down here, man."

"Okay." Spanna looked at Nick for a long time, coming up with how much he could tell the cops before he might get in trouble. He sat up and leaned forward when he had come up with his words. "Some of the Blood Market guys did come down to the convention. And I might have overheard them talking about a place that they'd be partying."

Nick was leaning toward Spanna, eager to hear what the man had to say. "Good."

"Showing off their collections."

This was all great information, but the most crucial part was missing. "Where?"

Spanna laughed again. "Look, they are never gonna let a random like you in."

"Well, what if… I bring something very special to their party?"

Now Spanna was the one who was intrigued. "Like what?"

Nick wasn't going to tell this knucklehead what he had in mind and he smiled with that secret. "Something that will blow their minds."

* * *

Nick walked into the shared office with the box he would be taking with him to the Blood Market dealers' party. He was also dressed in his edgier undercover clothes so he would look less like a cop. He glanced at his friend when he set the box down on his desk. Sara knew what was inside, and a few years ago she would have been more uncomfortable about it, but not anymore.

He still felt like he should run it by her first. "You okay with me using this at the Blood Market show-and-tell?"

Sara smiled reassuringly. "As long as it isn't her last one, I'm fine."

Nick nodded. "I was hoping you'd say that. This is the first one."

Sara nodded and continued typing. "You're all wired to go?"

"Yeah, yeah, just needed to grab my jacket." He swung the leather coat around and shrugged into it. "Wish me luck."

"Good luck."

* * *

Nick's raid went well. They arrested several collectors for various possession charges that would get sorted out later. They also brought in Jacob Warren, the man claiming to sell the bone-bladed knives made from Lucas Reem's bones. The knives and Warren's jacket were sent to Hodges and Henry for them to process. Nick had returned the miniature to evidence and Finn headed to PD to question Warren. When the lab rats texted that they were done with their analysis, Sara went to each of them to get their reports. The results surprised her.

At the same time, Finn walked into the interrogation room to question their latest suspect. "Jacob Warren. You are really obsessed with Lucas Reem, aren't you?" Warren had been picking at his cuticles, but he lowered his hands and started looking really smug. "So tell me what you did. You put on his jacket, you adorned yourself with all his relics, and then you murdered two people as tribute."

Warren was really enjoying what Finn was showing him. "You have no idea what it's like. All the bad mojo in those objects, rippling through your body."

All Finn could think was "this guy is nuts." Then she realized he was taking credit for the murders. "So you admit it? You killed Damon Harlow and Bruce Waters." This might be the easiest interrogation she'd ever done.

"That is the work of Lucas Reem."

_He thinks Lucas Reem committed these murders using his body_. "Right. His spirit, reincarnated in you."

Warren nodded. "Kindred souls find each other."

Finn was only a few minutes into the interview when her phone chimed. She looked at the screen to see she'd received a text from Hodges about the jacket. Finn was surprised and disappointed to learn that it was not Reem's jacket at all. She looked at Warren again; he was still staring intently at her, waiting. Finn set down her phone and ran a hand through her hair. Warren was not the murderer. Now she had to get him to admit it.

"So tell me, Jacob, when you and the spirit of Lucas Reem went to that lot to kill Bruce Waters, where'd you park?"

Warren scoffed, suddenly nervous. "Why do you want to know that?"

"Because the lab just told me that the jacket you were wearing is a fake." Warren straightened up and got more uncomfortable. "So that makes me think that maybe you are, too. You're just a wannabe and you're here wasting my time."

Warren giggled as though this had all been great fun. "All right, maybe I wasn't there for the murder. Just heard about it while I was clocked in at work. I mean, it sounded like a kill that Lucas Reem himself would do. So, uh… sue me for having a little fun." He looked up at Finn and grinned; proud of the joke he had played on her.

Too bad for him, she was going to be the one getting the last laugh here. "Well, you just earned yourself an obstruction charge." The grin on his face dropped faster than the temperature of something dipped in liquid nitrogen as she gathered up the photos. "Be fun to see how the other inmates like your act." She stood to leave. "Cuff him."

* * *

Sara rolled down the hall to inform the lab supervisor of the results and met Russell as he came out of his office. "Hey."

"Hey."

She held up the report Henry had given her. "Henry finished processing the knives that we got from Jacob Warren. No trace of blood on them, and DNA says that they were not made from Lucas Reem's bones."

"Well, that's not surprising. Warren's a deluded wannabe. So is that a dead end?"

Sara smirked, ready to drop the surprise. "Well, not exactly. One of the knives he had was made out of real human bone," she handed Russell the page, "the bone of a different serial killer. His name was Gerald Palmer."

Russell read off the page as they continued down the hall. "Executed in Ohio fifteen years ago. What's this have to do with that?"

"Well, the article says that a certain Cleveland mortician handled Palmer's body," Sara handed Russell another page, "after execution."

Russell came to a stop and Sara turned to face him. "Roy Narvick."

"Moved his mortuary business out here a few years later."

Russell was irritated. "Okay, so this guy lied to me about Reem's body being stolen. Kept it for himself, obviously."

"It sounds like he's been collecting for years. Arranging to handle killer's corpses."

Russell nodded. "Turning them into souvenirs."

Sara nodded in agreement. "Maybe… he's killing to protect his collection."

* * *

Russell had Narvick brought back in to PD and interviewed him again. As disgusting as Narvick was, he was not the killer. He only took the bones of the killers who came through his mortuary and turned them into knives to sell. In exchange for getting his misdemeanors dropped, he gave them his customer list. The list led them to a customer from Dead Owl Creek who had purchased all the Lucas Reem knives. Greg recognized the address from the two tape-crossers at the crime scene.

Greg and Sara returned to the convention with several officers to search Kyle Jessup's car and then arrest him. In the trunk of the car, they found the bloody bone-bladed knives and fringed leather jacket that belonged to Lucas Reem. The knives and jacket were boxed and bagged up to be transported to the lab by Sara and her uniformed driver. Greg and the rest of the cops went into the convention hall to search for Kyle. They found him standing in front of one of the boards advertising Lucas Reem at the convention. He was unaware of the police presence as he stood there, which gave the cops plenty of time to arrange themselves so their suspect couldn't escape.

"You think he'd approve?" Kyle turned halfway around to look at Greg. "Of everything you've done? You were doing it for him, right? Protecting his legacy? We searched your car, Kyle. We found the bone knives. The jacket. You kept them all together. Wasn't that the point? Collecting all those relics, making sure that the last traces of Lucas Reem were never lost, never destroyed?"

Kyle remained silent, his eyes almost dead as Greg listed off what they'd found and the reasons they suspected he'd done them for. Finally, when Greg had revealed that he knew what Kyle had aimed for, he turned the rest of the way to face Greg, a smirk on his face. "Lucas will live forever. You see, that dealer and that pathetic father, they thought they were smarter than me. Thought that they could take him away from me."

"So you took two lives over a batch of decaying bones." Greg's words irritated Kyle and he narrowed his eyes briefly in anger. "The thing I want to know is: why did you come back here; to see Damon Harlow's body in that car?"

Kyle shrugged. "Felt like I had dreamt it. Wanted to make sure that I hadn't. But it wasn't just in my head. You know? It was… It was real. What Lucas and I have, that's real. He will be with me forever."

"Well, you're one needle away from making that dream come true." Greg stepped out of the way and gestured with his head that the uniforms could arrest him now. Two moved forward and signaled that he should turn around. Kyle put his hands up and turned around, allowing the arrest to go smoothly. The convention goers on the other hand were not as easy going. They had been recording the entire encounter and crowded around the cops as the group led Kyle Jessup away. Kyle simply smiled, enjoying the attention and believing that soon he would be celebrated at these conventions too.

* * *

Russell walked into the lobby to find Nora Waters waiting there for news. He approached slowly, not wanting to have this conversation with the woman who had lost members of her family twice as well as a friend, but knowing that in order for her to heal again, she needed to hear this. He waited at the end of the bench for her to look up before sitting down facing her.

"Nora… I just wanted you to know that we caught the man who killed your father. And Damon. He's being taken into custody right now."

"So he's going away for good. He took both of them from me, but he can't hurt anyone else."

Her tone worried Russell, but he nodded anyway. "That's right."

He was right; anger was lurking just beneath the surface of her calmly depressed façade. "That's the same thing my dad used to tell me when I was a kid, about Lucas Reem, when I would cry out in the middle of the night from a nightmare," anger was giving way to grief, "'Don't worry. That man's going away. He can't hurt anyone else.' But…" She sniffled trying to regain her composure and get the lump out of her throat, "I guess he never really believed that. Twenty years later, Lucas Reem was still hurting him, still haunting him."

"You know… I think that your father, by chasing after those relics, in his own way was just trying to end the nightmare."

"But… instead, he just gave it new life. His own."

Russell could see that Nora would not be out of the nightmares that had begun with Lucas Reem's murder of her sister for quite some time. Reem's follower had ended not one, but two lives she held dear to her heart. And it wouldn't even end with the death of the follower if he was sentenced to death for his crimes. The lives of those she'd lost would haunt Nora for years to come. Russell wished there was some small piece of advice he could give her to help ease the suffering, banish the nightmares, but there was nothing he could offer. He watched Nora leave, fearful that she would be back again in much different circumstances. He didn't want to think about that.

* * *

**A/N: I think I will be adapting "Hero to Zero" as well, so stay tuned for that. Until next time!**


	25. Chapter 25

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank joann, stlouiegal, and a guest for their reviews. stlouiegal: There's so much in your review to respond to that I'll send you a PM to answer it all. joann: You ask for more, I'll give you more. Here it is! Guest: I thought they would mention Sara when the miniature showed up in the episode too. When they didn't, I decided to touch on it in my story at least.**

**This chapter starts the episode "Hero to Zero". I've embellished some of the scenes at the beginning or end to complete them. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 25

The crime scene was in an alley in the middle of the Alphabets. Nick and Sara arrived as the sun came up to see that uniforms had already cordoned off the area and lookie-loos were already wandering around next to the tape. Nick grabbed Sara's chair out of the backseat and Sara swung herself into it with ease. He grabbed his camera out of his kit and left the kit in the car. He could always grab it if he needed it. Sara unlocked her breaks and basket and the two headed for the crime scene.

Nick bowed his head to make it under the tape. "Thank you."

Sara was feeling good this morning as she rolled under the tape. "Morning."

Mitch was standing by the dumpster and walked toward them. "Morning."

"What's going on, Mitch?"

"One of the owners who backs on the alley was taking out trash this morning. He made the find." Mitch stopped in front of them and pointed to where the body was covered in boxes and trash bags. All they could see as they approached were the shoes and a hand sticking out from under the pile.

Sara stopped by the victim's feet. "Oof."

Nick moved around the pile to where the head would be and moved one of the pieces of cardboard. "Somebody worked him over pretty good." Sara took a picture. "Judging by his knuckles, I'd say he got a few shots in."

Sara rolled back toward the tape and reached a patch of ground that sounded sticky. "Eh. Ground is sticky over here, probably thanks to this Dumpster. But it's given us a lot of shoe impressions. Looking at the number," she took a shot of the ground, "I'd say more than one assailant."

Nick was slowly moving pieces of cardboard and taking pictures between each item moved. "Well, Mitch did say there was a gang terrorizing the neighborhood lately. Mostly vandalism and burglaries, but maybe they stepped up their game to murder." Nick had removed enough cardboard to expose the victim's chest, which appeared to be wrapped in a piece of black cloth. He moved it and exposed what looked like armor of some kind.

Sara had returned to Nick's side. "Nice get-up. Is that a cape?"

Nick looked surprised and confused. "That's a costume of some sort." He noticed something in the debris. "And, of course, no costume would be complete without a mask." He opened the mask up. It looked like a cross between Batman and Cat Woman.

"Maybe he's one of those sidewalk characters over on the Strip. They dress up like superheroes and panhandle for money."

"Yeah, and was walking home and just got jumped?"

Mitch walked over to them as Sara took a few photos. "Sara."

"Mm?"

Mitch held out a backpack. "One of my guys found this in a doorway up the street. No ID. Looks like it's been rifled through."

Sara started poking around in the bag. "Got some street clothes… and a sketch pad." Sara pulled the pad out of the bag and opened it to check it out. Inside were sketches of what looked like graphic novel or comic book drawings. She came to a page where a character similar to their victim was beating up several men. "Uh… Nick?"

Nick stood up. "Yeah."

"Take a look at these." She turned the pad around so Nick could see.

"Comic drawings of a superhero." Nick held up the mask. "That's this superhero."

"Battling a gang. It's a little weirdly prophetic, isn't it? Like he knew he was gonna come up against these guys." She turned the page to see the same superhero standing triumphant over the bodies of the gang. "Like he knew the future."

"Too bad for him, the hero only wins in comic books."

* * *

Sara was busy lifting the shoeprints in the sticky substance by the time David arrived. She had brought over several boxes and clipboards to place the lifts on when she was done with each one. The setup had taken several trips, but it was worth the effort because you could see the differences between each shoeprint right away. While she did that, Nick photographed the victim from all angles and got close-ups of the various cuts and bruises they could see.

Nick came over to see where she had arranged the completed lifts. "Hey, uh, quite a collection of lifts."

Sara sat up with the latest lift in her hands. "Yeah, looks like at least five or six different individuals, plus the victim."

"And a bare foot? What's with that?"

"I don't know, but he was definitely part of the mix somehow. What do you got?"

Nick was holding a stun gun and a bottle of pepper spray. "I think these are the victim's superpowers. One stun gun, spent, no charge left, and a pepper spray…" Nick shook the bottle and all they heard was rattling, "…also empty."

"Hey, Nick. Got a minute?"

"What's up, Super Dave?"

David sighed. "Well, I'm gonna say time of death was between midnight and three a.m. Multiple bruises and contusions. Several lacerations. I can't hazard a guess to say which ultimately killed him, though."

That wasn't something Nick wanted to hear. "Find any ID?"

"No. Nothing. Leave it to a superhero to keep his identity a mystery."

"Can I get my cart, please?" Beyond the tape, a man was trying to get someone's attention. "Can I get my cart?" Sara turned to see what was going on.

An officer was trying to take care of things. "I said, be patient, okay? Please."

The man was wearing old, dirty cloths and was nervously twisting his hand while holding his wrist. Sara glanced down and realized he wasn't wearing any shoes. There was a cart loaded with cans, bottles, and other essentials nearby. This man was homeless and possibly a witness to what happened last night. She instructed a uniform to take him back to PD so she could talk to him. The man didn't want the officer near him.

Sara went over to calm him down. "Sir, this officer is going to take you to the station so you can get warm and have some food and something to drink while we finish processing the scene. As soon as we're done, I'm going to bring your cart to you. Does that sound okay?"

"I have to get my cart. Can I get it, please?"

"I'm sorry, but it's part of the scene and until we are done with the scene, nothing can leave it." Sara glanced at his feet again. "If you go with this officer, we might even be able to find some shoes for you. Okay?"

He nodded. "Okay."

Sara smiled. "Just go with this officer. He'll take care of you."

* * *

By the time Sara got to PD and searched through the lost and found for some shoes that were size eleven, their homeless witness had been given some food and was enjoying it in the interview room. "Mmm. Mmm." He moaned in delight at having food that didn't come out of a dumpster.

Sara rolled into the room with the shoes on her lap. "How's your sandwich, Roger?"

Roger got nervous and clutched the sandwich close to him. "Good, yes. Thanks." He noticed the shoes on her lap.

She held them up. "You said size eleven. They're not entirely new. They're from our lost-and-found, but they're something."

The sandwich had been set down and he was looking at the shoes with something close to reverence in his eyes. He carefully took them from her and looked at her with gratitude. "Thank you."

Sara smiled. "You're welcome." Roger set them next to his tray of food gently. "They're, uh… not entirely free, though, either." He looked at her with fear and worry. These shoes were the first he had seen in some time and he didn't want them to be taken away from him if he couldn't pay. Sara didn't let him worry about the price for the shoes for long. "I need to know what happened in the alley last night. You were there, weren't you?"

Roger swallowed a couple times before speaking. "Some guy…" he started to smile, "who looked like Batman…" he put his hands above his head with a huge smile on his face, "…he saved me."

"How did he save you, exactly?"

Roger was playing with his tray now. "I was, uh, rummaging. All of a sudden, I'm surrounded by these, um… villains. And they start shoving and hitting me."

Sara interrupted. "What did these villains look like?"

Roger shook his head. "Never saw them. They- they covered their faces. But they wanted to hurt me. Badly." Roger paused. The memories from last night were playing out in his head and the fear and sadness he had experienced when he was being shoved around showed. Then the smile returned as his memories got to the point where their victim showed up. "That's when the guy in the mask appeared, in a ball of light."

"I see. What happened next?"

Roger started shaking his head. "I don't… I don't know." He picked up the sandwich again. "I left. I took off."

Sara nodded. "You didn't see their faces. You didn't see what happened. Did you see anything at all that- that might help us? Find the villains, I mean."

He spoke around the food in his mouth. "A truck. A red pickup. Um, parked in the alley."

Sara smiled. It wasn't much, but they at least had something to look into. "Thanks, Roger. Enjoy the shoes."

"They're mine?"

"Yep, all yours."

* * *

Morgan was checking the shoe tread database to match more of the shoeprints with a type of shoe when Russell walked in. "How's it going? Any luck?"

"Some." Morgan sighed. "I was able to identify two of the boots that made these impressions. Unfortunately, they're all common work boots, sold at dozens of retailers and online. But," she picked up a magnifying glass and handed it to Russell, who was examining one of the shoe impressions, "we may have some luck in a different way. Take a close look."

Russell held up the magnifying glass and looked at the shoe impression. "There are granules stuck in the gel. Almost like… coffee grounds." Russell lowered the two items. "Sara said that the ground around the crime scene was… was sticky. Maybe the tackiness pulled whatever this is off of this guy's shoes." Russell was examining the shoeprint again.

"Not just his. Almost all of these have the exact same trace on them. I already pulled a sample and gave it to Hodges for analysis."

Russell set down the impression he was looking at and picked up another as Greg walked in. "Hey, Russell, you should, uh, see this." Greg angled the screen so the other two could see it as well. "It's, uh, security footage from a pawnshop on Wallace. Just a few blocks from the murder."

As they watched, a group of people wearing hoodies, masks and gloves walked into view. Two or three started hitting a car across from the pawnshop with what might have been crowbars while another picked up the trashcan sitting on the sidewalk and emptied it of its contents. He then threw the trashcan through the window of the pawnshop. As soon as the window shattered, the gang raced to the now broken window and started grabbing anything within reach.

Russell was impressed with the efficiency of the group. "Wow, they don't waste any time."

"That's from a little after eleven."

Morgan's eyes widened. "Only an hour or so before the murder."

"Looks like this gang had a busy night." Russell turned back to the video in time to see that one member did have a crowbar and was raking the glass off the counter and onto the floor with it while the others raced away from the shop. "Okay, Greg, take Finn and head down there. Process the scene. Maybe this gang left something behind that we can use to identify them."

"You got it."

* * *

Finn walked out of the pawnshop while Greg was photographing shoeprints. "The owner already started cleaning up inside. So I told him not to touch anything until we're finished."

"Well, according to Akers, this is the second time these guys have hit this place. They did the same thing to a beauty supply store a block down, a couple nights ago."

Finn took a couple photos of the car the smash-and-grab gang had vandalized. "So they're targeting the same area. Gotta be local. Maybe a gang of neighborhood kids out wilding?"

Greg prepped a lift to collect the shoeprint. "Wilding… now killing."

"Got any shoe impessions?"

"Working on it." He set the lift over the shoeprint.

"What is that powder?"

"Oh, the, uh, display has fluorescent lights." Greg gestured to the broken window. "And the inside of the tubes is coated with this phosphor powder. When the tube breaks, the powder gets everywhere."

That powder getting everywhere sounded like they would be lucky to get prints off of anything here. "Any point in, uh… dusting for prints?"

Greg was pressing the lift to collect every part of the print. "Not sure. Video was pretty grainy, but it looked like they were wearing gloves." Finn turned to the broken window and noticed some discoloration near the bottom. "Besides, they took almost everything they touched."

Finn knelt by the broken window and her suspicion was confirmed. There was something that looked a lot like blood on the pane. "Maybe we don't need any prints." She pulled two vials and a swab from her vest. She squirted a little liquid from one vial to prep the swab and then rubbed it along the window to collect some of the red substance from it. She then squirted a little liquid from the second vial and smiled as the tip of the swab turned pink. "I got blood."

* * *

**A/N: I really enjoyed how much screen time Sara got in this episode. When I went through it and transcribed the ****scenes that had ****Sara in them, I had twelve pages without the scene in the basement. I'll have to give that scene to someone else due to the stairs, unfortunately. Anyone have a preference on who I should substitute for that scene? Comment or PM me to let me know! The CSI who's name comes up the most votes will win it!**


	26. Chapter 26

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank Snickers, phnxgrl, and joann for their reviews. It would appear that the three front runners for taking Sara's**** scene with Tina in the basement are Nick, Finn, and Morgan with one vote each. Voting is still open if anyone would like to weigh in. This chapter starts with Sara and Russell discussing Batman. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 26

Sara rolled into Russell's office to see him playing with a mask. He started quoting something. "'I wear a mask. And that mask, it's not to hide who I am, but to create'," he put the mask in front of his face, "'what I am.'"

Sara had no idea what that was from. "I give up. Are- are you quoting Sun Tzu?"

Russell had moved the mask away from his face. "Uh, no, no, no. A different warrior. Batman. Volume one. Number 624." Sara leaned over to peak under Russell's desk at his feet, a smile on her face. Russell set the mask on his desk, confused by Sara's actions. "What're you doing?"

Sara straightened up. "Oh, I'm just trying to see your feet. The last Batman fan I met was shoeless and lives in an alley. You know, I never pegged you for a comic book nerd."

"My early teens, every dime I had went to comic books."

"I guess I just don't get it. You know? My childhood, fantasy was never my escape. I lost myself in science and numbers. That's all I needed, I guess."

"Well, you liked things that were clear and proven. Right or wrong. Black or white."

Sara sometimes hated how easily Russell seemed to be able to see right through people. "Maybe. This is the closest that I've come to the comic book world, and it's ample enough." Sara held up the copy of one of the victim's drawings and leaned forward to hand it to Russell as Hodges walked in.

Hodges was speaking before he'd crossed the threshold. "Do you realize how long walnuts have been around as a food source?" He had a couple in his hand and he held them up. Russell shot Sara a "what is going on?" look as Hodges continued. "Archeologists in Southern France found evidence of roasted walnut shells dating back to the Neolithic period. That's 8,000 years ago." Hodges closed his hand and cracked the walnuts.

"Wow. I did not know that." Russell took some of the walnuts Hodges was offering. "Thank you very much. And you're telling us this because…?"

Hodges straightened up. "Well, because the trace evidence collected at the scene," he nodded toward Sara, "the granules on the suspect's shoes… its ground walnut shell." He pulled a small baggie of the stuff from his back pocket. "Now, it's not as exotic as it sounds." Sara took the bag from Hodges to look at it. "It's commonly used as reptile bedding, if you raise reptiles. They're also used as exfoliants in soaps and scrubs."

Russell could see what Hodges was getting at. "So its common stuff. Not going to help us very much now, right?"

"Not necessarily. Our samples are unique in that they are unusually charred. They also contain a trace of calcium hypochlorite. I'm still working to determine why."

Russell was pleased that it wasn't a dead end yet. "Good, good." He put another piece of walnut in his mouth and shooed Hodges from his office. "Go. Work."

Sara cleared her throat and pulled the drawing from her folder again. Before she could give it to Russell though, there was a traffic jam at the lab supervisor's office door. Henry was trying to come in at the same time Hodges was trying to get out. When one would try to get around the other by going one way, the other would have had the same thought and was now blocking them again. Russell and Sara looked up to watch.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"I'm just…"

"Oh, lord."

"Come on."

Russell turned to Sara. "I need a revolving door around here."

Hodges and Henry and worked out their traveling issues and Henry headed straight for Russell's desk. "Results from the blood Finlay found at the pawnshop. Uh, DNA was male. No direct match in CODIS. But there was a familial match to this guy." He handed Russell a folder.

Russell opened it and held up the mug shot. "Martin Preach. Three-striker currently residing at Ely State Prison."

"I did some checking. Mr. Preach has at least one kid." Henry riffled through his stack till he found the right folder. "A nineteen year old son named Trey." He handed Russell that folder too. "A couple of petty offenses of his own. Could be the blood donor."

Russell picked up Trey's mug shot. "Was one of his petty offenses his hair?" He turned the photo around so Sara could see it while he perused the file.

Sara looked at the mug shot for a moment and recognized the purple Mohawk. "Wait a second." She searched through the copies of the comic book drawings. "Uh, look at the victim's comic book drawings. The gang that the superhero is fighting." She handed Russell the page. "One of them has a purple Mohawk."

Russell looked between the drawing and the mug shot. Their victim was talented; the guy in the drawing was a match to the boy in the mug shot. "Pow!"

* * *

Sara and Nick went into the interrogation room to talk to Trey. His purple Mohawk was in full bloom today, fluffed and sticking up to be noticed. Trey looked sullen, moody, and he avoided eye contact with them as they took their places across the table from him. Sara set the folder she'd brought on the table in front of her and pulled out the mug shot of his father.

"Like father, like son, I guess. Right, Trey? It's not much of a surprise." She set the mug shot on the table in front of the teen. "Your dad wasn't exactly around during your formative years, was he?"

Trey pushed the photo away from him like it didn't matter. "I got a family I can count on. That's all that matters."

"Yeah, you got your boys, right? Your- your gang?"

Trey shrugged. "It's one for all, you know?"

"Well, I hate to break up the little party here, Trey, but you guys are in it pretty deep this time."

Sara continued Nick's line of inquiry. "You left DNA on the window at the pawnshop last night. As we're sitting here, our guy is outside matching it to the sample that you gave in the hall."

Nick leaned forward. "You ain't a juvie no more, man, and this is far from your first offense. So… I suggest you smarten up."

"The DA's gonna want your whole crew. All of them, all right? You give us the names and a serious statement, and this murder does not have to be all on you."

Trey's head snapped up to her when she mentioned murder. "Hold on. What murder?"

Nick was playing bad cop today. "The guy you beat to death in the alley off Grant last night. That murder."

Trey was shaking his head. "I don't know nothing about that."

Sara closed the folder and slid the photo of their victim's dead body in front of him. "You don't know nothing about this?"

Trey looked at the photo. "Wait a minute. This dude? He's the one that's dead? I've seen this freak around. He wears a mask or something, right?"

Sara nodded. "Uh-huh."

"Yeah, I seen him sometimes when I cruise at night. Sad damn freak." Trey was obviously amused that the man in the costume was dead. "But I didn't kill him though." The two CSIs glanced at each other. "I didn't touch him."

* * *

Morgan had the shoeprint lifts from both the alley and the pawnshop laid out on the layout room table. She had been comparing them to each other, and was disappointed to discover that the shoeprints were not matches. Not only did the prints themselves not match, but there didn't appear to be any walnut shell trace in the pawnshop prints either. It was looking like Trey Preach and his gang was not the gang responsible for their superhero's murder.

Russell leaned in the doorway. "Just heard from Nick. Trey Preach and his purple hair deny any involvement with the murder. No shocker, I guess."

Morgan nodded. "No, shocker would have been if he didn't deny it."

"Well… no problem holding him. The guy's a lock for the smash and grab at the pawnshop." Russell turned to leave.

Morgan had to tell him about the shoes not matching. "The problem is that may be the only thing that he's a lock for."

Russell had stopped leaving when Morgan started talking and now came into the layout room. "What do you mean?"

Morgan sighed. "So, the shoeprints from the pawnshop don't match the shoeprints from the alley."

"You sure about that?"

"Unless these guys went home and changed shoes in between crimes, we're looking at different gangs."

Russell turned to look at the shoeprints and then shook his head. "Two gangs working the same neighborhood? And what about the comic book drawings? No, no, no. There- there can't be that many guys out there with purple Mohawks. Don't we know somebody that- that saw the gang in the alley?" Russell didn't normally get worked up like this about a case, but Morgan could see that the idea of Trey and his gang being in the same area as the alley murder and not being the gang responsible for it was not something he wanted to hear.

"The homeless guy, Roger. But he said he didn't remember seeing any faces."

"That's what he said, but let- let's find him. Show him a picture of Trey and his purple hair. Maybe he saw more than he realized."

Morgan nodded and Russell left the layout room. Morgan secured the shoeprints from each crime scene, and then found Greg and asked him to help her look for Roger. They started searching the alleys near the crime scene, but an hour later, they'd had no luck. They got to Grant and took another look. There was still no sign of Roger. A trashcan fire in the alley said that someone had been here recently, but they must have hidden when Morgan and Greg arrived.

Morgan was ready to go back to the lab. "Maybe he decided it was too high crime an area, and picked up and moved out."

Greg sighed. "You know what? I'm gonna go back to the other side, have one more look. Then we should check the alley north of Grant."

Morgan nodded and rolled her eyes. "Okay." She wasn't looking forward to searching more alleys.

She started slowly walking down the alley, shining her light between the dumpsters and around the pallets lining the alley on both sides. There were several trashcan fires, but no one was standing near one. There also didn't appear to be any encampments either. Morgan checked the inside of a dumpster for signs of rummaging, but nothing appeared to have been searched. She was moving on when a thud to her left startled her.

Morgan shined her light in the direction of the sound. "Roger? We just want to talk to you." Someone ran right past her. "Hey!" Morgan spun around, searching for who had run by. "Hey, who's there?!"

Another thudding sound behind her made Morgan spin around again. She shined her light toward the sound and then something thudded behind her and Morgan kept turning, trying to see who was a making all the noise.

Glass shattered behind Morgan and she spun again. "Hey!" As she turned, the figure darted by her again, only this time Morgan managed to catch them in her flashlight's beam. "Hey! What the hell?"

The figure stopped running and turned when they realized they had been spotted. They turned around and Morgan saw that it was a woman wearing armor, a cape, and a mask, just like their victim from the alley.

"Who are you?" The woman didn't speak, but Morgan sensed that they weren't alone and she turned to see another caped crusader. "Hey! Okay!" This one was a man, and he was far too close for comfort. "I'm with the LVPD Crime Lab. I need you to step back." The woman on Morgan's right took a step closer. "Just stay back!"

Behind the man, Greg pulled out his sidearm and disengaged the safety. "Unless you're faster than a speeding bullet, you better do what she said." Both of the superheroes raised their arms in surrender.

* * *

Morgan and Greg had the superheroes move out of the alley to stand by their SUV so they could question the costumed pair. They were both wearing body armor and domino masks as well as short capes. The woman's costume was very purple while the man's was black with accents of red. They also had spiked armbands and high boots. The armor pieces for both of them were silver in color, as were the spikes on their armbands. The costumes might have been a collection of pieces that the pair had put together themselves, but they were well done.

Morgan started the questions. "Why were you in the alley?"

The man was stonewalling them. "We got every right to be there. We haven't done anything wrong."

Greg was tired of the masks. "All right, for starters, how about you take off your masks? Unless you have something to hide."

The woman was just as guarded as her friend. "We're not hiding anything. We're just protecting ourselves. Anonymity is vital to our work." She put her hands on her hips in a classic superhero pose. "To what we do."

Morgan glanced at Greg. "Which is what exactly?"

"We fight crime. We patrol the street at night. We do whatever we got to do to make it tougher on the pimps and the drug dealers and whatever other criminals we find."

"Okay, we're on the same side here. The guy who was beaten in this alley last night? Judging from his costume, I'm guessing he was a friend of yours?"

The superheroes looked at each other and then back to Morgan. "Dominion was beaten? By who? Where is he?"

Greg looked at the man. "He's dead. You didn't know?"

The news that their friend was dead made them both drop their tough exteriors. The woman pealed her mask off and the man quickly followed suit. "How did it happen?"

Greg was happy for the signs of cooperation. "Well, we're working to figure it out. And it would help if you could tell us: when was the last time you saw him?"

The woman's demeanor was still defensive, but her voice was tinged with grief. "Dominion didn't show up for patrol last night, so when he didn't show up again tonight, we decided to go looking for him and that's when we saw you two entering the alley."

"What was Dominion's real name?" The two superheroes started looking everywhere but at Morgan, so she decided to bring the reality of what their lack of cooperation was doing for their friend. "Your friend is lying in a morgue." That image made the woman look up in shock, "an unclaimed John Doe with a toe tag. Tell us his name so we can at least notify his family."

They looked at each other and the man nodded to the woman. "Brad Jeffries."

* * *

**A/N: If you'd like to have some input of which CSI should take Sara's basement scene (stairs are hard to travel up and down with a wheelchair), leave a comment below or send me a PM with the name of the CSI you want to see in that scene. The character with the most votes by the time that scene is posted will take it. Thanks!**


	27. Chapter 27

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank Noodle the Albino Python, phnxgrl, stlouiegal, and a Guest for their reviews. stlouiegal: I hope you've had a chance to watch the rest of the episode so you can follow along. Guest: Thank you for taking the time to review and I'm glad you like this story. Thank you everyone who is reading. Voting is still open on who should take Sara's basement scene from the episode. If you haven't cast a vote yet and would like to, please do! Comment box or PM works just fine.**

**This chapter starts with the first time the CSIs are in the Jeffries' home. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 27

While Russell was upstairs talking to Brad Jeffries mother and stepfather, learning about Brad's activities with the real-life superhero movement, Nick was down in the basement talking to Tina and Scott, the other two superheroes. The basement was outfitted with a couple pieces of workout equipment, room for sparing and several large drawings along the walls. There were racks for their costumes, a couch, some computers, and desks for prepping their equipment or for Brad to draw their adventures. Scott was currently doing pull-ups on the bar.

"So, Brad's mom doesn't have a problem with you guys setting up in her basement?"

Tina shook her head. "I mean, Brad was the one who brought the three of us together. You know? Like, inspired us. He got me believing I could actually make a difference. And change the world, you know?" Scott was standing behind Tina now.

Nick was skeptical about their real motives. "But why like this?" He was shaking his head. "The masks, costumes?"

"Well, we have our reasons. For me?" Tina looked down, reluctant to share her past. "I was a victim once. Just a seventeen year old girl, riding the bus late at night."

Scott interrupted, looking at Nick to spare Tina from having to spell out what had happened. "Yeah, I was never a victim. But I was into some pretty dark stuff in the past. Hurt people. What I do now, it's my way to pay it back. It's my redemption."

"But you're not police officers. You don't have police training. You don't have the power to even arrest anybody. What you're doing is borderline unlawful. You know that, right?"

The pair didn't like what Nick was telling them. "So, what do we do? We- we leave it up to the cops? Is that it?"

"Well, there's an idea, yeah."

Tina was indignant. "Cops go where the money is. The casinos, the tourists. We aren't exactly a priority. So, that's why we do what we do."

Nick had moved to stand by the desk. "Come here and take a look at this." He opened the folder in his hands and set it on the table. The pair reluctantly moved to stand where they could see it. "Tell me about the gang this superhero's fighting."

Scott recognized the drawing. "Yeah, we call them The Disciples. They've been running wild around this area for about a month now. They're sort of our nemesis."

Tina agreed. "The drawing was Brad's version of what would happen if he found them."

Nick pointed to the desk that was set up like an art studio. "These are the rest of Brad's drawings over here?"

"Yeah."

Nick went over to take a look. He moved a sketch of a superhero in a flying crouch and saw a picture of Brad in costume denting the front end of a red pickup while Tina, in costume, comforted a scantily dressed woman on the ground.

Nick picked it up and showed it to the pair. "What's this one about?"

Scott shrugged. "Just some guy we ran into one night. Why?"

"Witnesses saw a red pickup truck last night around the time Brad was murdered. What can you tell me about it?"

Tina shrugged. "Guy was arguing with a hooker. Shoved her down. So we intervened. When he tried to bail, Brad smashed the fender of his truck."

Nick nodded. "Know anything about the driver?" Tina shook her head and Nick looked at Scott. "Have you seen him before or since then?"

Scott slowly shook his head. "No. Just that night."

"Okay. That's it?" Nick was sure he wasn't getting the whole story.

Scott looked him straight in the eyes. "Yeah, that's it."

* * *

Sara rolled into the break room for some coffee. "Hey."

"Hey." Morgan was on her laptop. "You know, I had no idea this was actually a thing, this whole, real-life superhero movement."

Sara poured some coffee into her mug. "More than just our trio, you mean?"

Morgan nodded. "Way more. I have found hundreds of people across the country, who like to dress in superhero costumes and go out in their neighborhoods, mostly it seems with altruistic motives."

Sara parked at the table. "I'm all for making a difference, but the whole dress up part just seems so… What's the word I'm looking for?"

Hodges strolled in. "Hello, ladies. I bring news on our walnut shells. Now, you remember that I said they were unique?"

"You said they were charred, right? And also that they'd been exposed to calcium hypochlorite."

"And all that just might equal… Sundip Pool Supply." Hodges handed Sara the report.

Morgan was looking at the folder as it was handed over. "Might equal, how?"

"Turns out, ground walnut shell is also used by sandblasters to clean pool tile. They spray it instead of sand because the shells don't scratch the tile."

Sara had handed the report to Morgan. "And how does that get us to this Sundip place?"

"The charring and the chemical trace. Sundip Pool Supply had a huge fire about three weeks ago. It's the only logical source I can think of that matches our specific samples."

"Thanks, Hodges, I'll check it out."

* * *

**Meanwhile...**

Doc had just finished filling out his report when Greg walked in. "Hey, Doc. Long day for you."

Doc returned to the autopsy table. "Long and busy with some very interesting findings, particularly in the case of your victim."

"Really? What have you got?"

Doc gestured to the victim. "Well, as you can see in his injuries here, there's a lot of bruising and swelling as well as areas of bleeding. All of this is consistent with a non-lethal beating."

That was a word Greg hadn't expected to hear. "Non-lethal? And yet he's dead."

Doc nodded. "Thanks to a single blow that landed just here at the base of the skull. The victim was struck once with significant force, effectively transecting the brain stem in the area of the medulla oblongata."

"Okay, so maybe during the beating, one of the suspects gets carried away, hits the victim in the base of the skull, and kills him."

"But herein lies the conundrum. All this bruising and swelling you see took time. At least sixty minutes for the body to respond to injuries of this degree. The brain stem injury, however, was instantly fatal."

It took Greg a moment to realize the implications of Doc's information. "Instantly?"

"Like switching off a light."

Greg nodded. "So the blow that killed him was delivered sixty minutes after the beating."

* * *

Greg took Doc's report straight to Russell. "That means that Brad Jefferies was beaten up and left in the alley for at least an hour."

Greg nodded. "According to Doc, probably unconscious."

"So somebody had to come back, maybe a gang member or someone entirely different, hit him in the back of the head, and killed him. Does Doc have any thoughts about the murder weapon?"

Greg shrugged. "Said it could be something like a baseball bat or a club." He pulled a photo of the bruises on Jefferies neck out of the folder and showed Russell. "But here you can see these bands on his neck."

Russell looked at the photo for a moment. There was something very familiar about those bands. "Wait a second." He went to his desk. "Nick just came back with some more comic book drawings from our superheroes. Check out the weapon in that hero's hands." He handed Greg the picture.

"It's a club with metal bands."

"Right, so maybe our victim was killed with his own weapon."

Greg looked back at the picture. "Well, there was nothing like this recovered at the crime scene, so the killer must have taken it."

"All right, so he either still has it, or he ditched it. There are a lot of dumpsters in those alleys. Let's get LVPD to check the area completely, okay?"

Sara rolled into Russell's office. "Hey, looks like that ground walnut shell trace might have paid off. Thanks to Hodges, I went and checked out this place called Sundip Pool Supply with Finn. Their place is all fenced and boarded up, but I got a security guard to let us in. There was charred walnut shell, just like ours, all over the place."

"So our gang must've been there at some point before they went to the alley."

Sara agreed with Greg. "Guard said that the only people working there right now are the demolition crew. Company name is Agrerro Demo and Hauling. They are in there every day, and this is the kicker, the crew's foreman, Tony Agrerro, he drives a red pickup truck."

Greg turned the picture around so Russell could see the truck again. Russell nodded. Tony Agrerro needed to be brought in for questioning.

* * *

Nick and Finn parked the SUV outside Agrerro Demo and Hauling to meet up with Mitch and his partner to search the business for Tony Agrerro. "Okay, boys. This is the guy we're looking for right here," he handed the picture of their suspect to Mitch, "Tony Agrerro."

Mitch looked at the photo. "You're sure he's here?"

Nick took out his flashlight. "Well, he better be, that's his red pickup truck right there."

That was good enough for Mitch. "Let's go." Mitch opened the gate and the group walked inside. They checked out the truck first before splitting up to cover more ground. The truck was empty and it didn't look like had been used for a few hours at least.

Nick's flashlight found the dent Brad had left on Agrerro's truck. "Yeah. There's the dent right there."

Finn looked in the big hauling troughs. "Hey, Nick. Ground walnut shells. Same as on the boots from the alley." Nick leaned into the trough to take a look and Finn started hearing a rhythmic beeping sound. "Do you hear that?"

Nick straightened up and listened. There was a beeping sound that was coming from behind the bigger hauling containers for massive demolition projects. They followed the sounds to a massive truck. The engine was making strange sounds and the beeping had gotten louder. Finn reached out and touched the truck's grill.

"It's still warm. He's got to be around here."

Nick walked around the door and shined his light into the cab. "Keys are still in the ignition." He stepped up into the truck to turn the engine off.

Finn had stepped around the door at the same time and was shining her light on the ground between the cabin and the bed of the truck. "Oh, Nick." He looked down at her, frozen in place, worry on his face. Finn glanced up at him and then back to the ground. "Lot of blood."

Nick stepped off the steps carefully and looked to where her light was focused. "Whoa. Mitchell, over here!"

They both paned their lights upward and found Tony Agrerro's body wedged between the cabin of the truck and the container on the back. His torso above the container was largely intact. Below that was completely crushed. Toward the bottom of the space, his feet and some of his legs looked to be unaffected. It was not a pretty sight. Mitchell found them and stared at the scene.

Finn sighed. "Well, we found him."

Mitchell shined his flashlight on Agrerro too. "Looks like somebody had an accident."

Nick glanced at Mitchell and then looked to Finn. "If this was an accident, I'm Superman."

* * *

**A/N: I don't think there will be an episode tomorrow night due to the Grammys, so I'll have to see if a side storyline I've been working on will fit/ be complete by the time I've finished posting the adaptation of this episode. Stay tuned!**


	28. Chapter 28

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank Noodle the Albino Python, joann, and stlouiegal for their reviews. stlouiegal: Interesting about the guardian angels in St Louis. Voting is now closed for the basement scene because it is appearing in this chapter. Thanks to everyone who weighed in. This chapter picks up at the next scene in the episode. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 28

Finn was examining the winch system by Agrerro's feet and noticed some interesting marks on the cables. "Hey, Nick."

"Yeah?"

"There are tool marks on one of these pulleys. Looks like somebody intentionally jammed the winch cable." She walked over to the ladder and started climbing it to get a better angle.

Nick was processing the truck's cabin. "Yeah, they probably knew the victim would crawl into the gap to fix it."

"Yeah, and then once he was in there, pulled the lever, and squish." Finn photographed the victim.

David was examining Agrerro's face. "Victim has a couple nasty bruises on his face."

Nick was standing in the door of the truck now. "Yeah, yeah, I saw those. Looks like he got into a fistfight. How old do you think those bruises are, David?"

"Recent. I don't know… twenty-four, forty-eight hours maybe?"

Nick turned to Finn. "That times out perfectly for the brawl in the alley, so maybe our dead superhero really did get some licks in before they took him down."

Finn lowered her camera. "All right, so we've got a red pickup truck, walnut shells, we have bruises now, so Tony Agrerro here was definitely a part of the gang that beat up Brad Jeffries."

"Yeah, I think so, and then used his coworkers as the rest of the crew."

"Well, that'll give us the alley gang, but it's not gonna tell us who actually went back to commit the murder."

David interrupted the discussion between Finn and Nick. "Guys, there are some interesting scratches on this truck." Finn aimed her camera and zoomed in to take a picture of the scratches David was pointing to.

Nick leaned over to try and get a look, but he was at the wrong angle. "Are they fresh?"

David looked again. "They didn't have time to rust."

Finn looked at Nick. "Weren't the other two superheroes… were they wearing spiked armbands?"

Nick chuckled. "Who, Scott and Tina?"

"Yeah."

He nodded. "Yeah, they were."

Finn turned back to the scratches. "So, uh, maybe they did this. Case of revenge."

Nick didn't want to think that two people who were trying to protect their neighborhood would commit murder to avenge their friend's death. "Time of death, David?"

"I'm gonna put T.O.D. at around midnight last night, more or less."

"Midnight." Nick paused to remember what time he had spoken to Tina and Scott. "You know, that's not too long after I talked to those two knuckleheads about that red pickup truck."

* * *

Finn walked down the stairs into the basement to find Tina gloved up and hitting the punching bag. "You lied to us, Tina. You and Scott."

Tina had stopped punching the bag when she saw Finn and was looking at the CSI in confusion. "Huh? Wh- what are you talking about?"

"Last night, when CSI Nick Stokes was here, he told you about a red pickup that had been spotted near the alley where Brad was killed."

Tina was breathing heavily from her workout. "Yeah. So what?"

"So, when he asked you about the driver, you said that you didn't know anything. But you did know, didn't you? You knew the driver was Tony Agrerro. I mean, come on... his name's right on the side of the truck."

Tina sighed. "Okay, so maybe we didn't tell CSI… what, Stokes? Everything, but, you know, obviously, you found your way to Tony Agrerro."

Finn raised her voice to break through Tina's flippant rant. "We did, but not before you got to him first."

That brought Tina back to Earth. "Wait, got to him first? What do you mean?"

"Tony Agrerro is dead, Tina, and we found evidence that at least one of you was there."

Tina was surprised. "What?" She started shaking her head. "Wait. No. That's not what we're about. Okay? Th- the real-life superhero movement is about… asserting a positive influence. It's about… improving the neighborhood."

"You want to improve your neighborhood? Go help in a shelter or get involved with at-risk kids. The game that you two are playing is dangerous, and now two people are dead because of it." Tina wanted to speak, but was lost for words. Finn didn't have time to waste. "Where were you last night around midnight?"

"I was here, with Brad's mom." Tina was trying to show Finn that she was being completely honest. "We stayed up all night talking. I mean, Brad meant everything to her. All right, she's devastated. I couldn't just leave her."

Finn had glanced at the costume racks and noticed that Scott's costume had something on the spiked armband. "What about Scott?" Finn turned on her flashlight and shined it on Scott's armband. "Was he with you?" She walked over to the racks.

Tina hesitated. "No. Uh… I have… I have no idea where Scott was."

Finn got close enough to notice that Scott's armbands had what looked like red paint trace on them. She then panned the light down to the boots and saw blood on them. She turned to Tina. "You need to tell me where to find Scott, Tina. No games this time."

* * *

Russell and Greg were in the layout room where Greg was showing Russell ID pictures. "What am I looking at here?"

"Tony Agrerro's trash-hauling crew. And shoe impressions confirm what we already figured: they're also his gang from the alley. LVPD rounded them up. Sara and I offered a deal to the first one to talk. We got four takers." Greg was smiling; it had been funny to see how quickly the men were willing to talk.

Russell looked up at Greg. "Their stories line up?"

"All of them told the same tale. Agreed to beating up Brad Jeffries in the alley."

Russell leaned on the table and sighed. "Anybody say why?"

Greg had a grin on his face. "Because their boss told them to."

_Of course he did._ "Right. Agrerro had that score to settle with the- the superheroes over the hooker and the damage to his truck."

"Somehow they knew Jeffries would be walking home from work. They also knew that he couldn't resist playing hero."

"So the tussle with the homeless guy was just a lure to get Jeffries into the alley."

Greg leaned on the table too. "And Jeffries took the bait. But… they left him alive after the beating. They were all big on pressing that point."

"Right. Well, we knew that. I mean, he was alive for at least an hour later, until one or maybe more of them came back and killed him." Greg nodded and Russell continued. "Question is, who and why?"

Greg had an idea. "Well, here's a thought. According to all of them, Agrerro's mask came off during the fight… and Jeffries recognized him."

Russell stood and turned toward Greg. "Well, there's a motive for you. After the beating, everyone leaves, Tony starts thinking, Tony starts worrying."

"Exactly. He knows that if the victim IDs him, he could face serious prison time on the assault."

"So an hour later, everybody's gone. Agrerro goes back to the alley and kills Jeffries. And then Agrerro is killed by the… the superhero out of revenge."

Morgan walked into the layout room. "Only problem is… Tony Agrerro never went back to the alley."

Russell looked at Morgan with his arms crossed. "You sure about that?"

"After beating up Jeffries, they all went to nurse their wounds at a local dive bar. I talked to the bartender. Swears all five of them stayed there until close. Agrerro ran a tab and he never left."

Greg turned to Russell, who was still looking at Morgan before nodding. "Well, if that's true, then none of them could have killed Brad Jeffries."

Russell looked back down at the table of evidence and shook his head. This case was getting more frustrating by the second.

* * *

Nick sat down in front of their best suspect for Agrerro's murder. "Scott… I've been checking on you. You have quite a rap sheet. Congratulations." Nick opened the folder in front of him. "Almost every charge in here involved you beating the crap out of somebody."

Scott shrugged. "That's before I had a cause. You know? Something to believe in."

Nick nodded. "This superhero thing?"

Scott nodded. "Yeah."

"You want to know what I think about that? I think the mask and the cape are just an excuse for you to go out and pound heads. You've always been a thug, only now you do it in a cape." Nick's words were making Scott dismissive. "And you tell yourself it's okay because your victims are bad guys."

Scott was shaking his head. "No, man. You got me all wrong, I'm telling you." Scott was trying to hold Nick's eyes and stare him down, but Nick had been doing this for too long to be intimidated by some thug who called himself a superhero. Scott would eventually have to look away again, shaking his head, waiting till he could bring himself to enter that staring contest again.

Nick ignored Scott's attempt to change his mind on the superhero matter. "Tony Agrerro deserved to die, am I right? He killed your best friend, so you did what any noble superhero would do. You avenged your best friend's death. Only this time, Scott…" Nick pulled a photo of Agrerro crushed in the truck from the folder and put it in front of Scott, "that's not being a hero right there, man, that's being a vigilante."

Scott looked at the picture without much sympathy or disgust. That told Nick he had seen it before. "I… I don't know what you're talking about, man." He was trying to act tough, pushing the picture back to Nick, but his voice was shaking a little, betraying his nerves. "I didn't have anything to do with that."

Time to catch Scott in a lie. "You weren't there last night? You weren't at the yard?"

He answered too quickly. "No. Nowhere near it."

Gotcha. "Then explain how scratches ended up on a truck that perfectly match those bad-ass superhero bracelets of yours. And then maybe you can explain to me how Tony Agrerro's blood ended up on your boot."

Scott looked down and licked his lips with an "I'm screwed" look on his face. Eventually he nodded and revised his story. "All right, I… I was there." He paused and Nick waited for him to continue. "But he was dead when I found him. I didn't have anything to do with this, I swear."

Nick was grinning. "So you were lying before, but you're telling me the truth now?"

"I went looking for him. All right? The place was dark. I heard a truck engine running. I went to go check it out. When I got there, he was lying there, dead. I reached in to check his pulse. That's probably how my armband scratched the truck."

"Scott, if you're gonna lie to me, at least get your facts straight. Okay? The keys were in the truck, the engine wasn't running." Scott sighed and Nick laughed. "You want to try again?"

"No. What I want is a lawyer. Now."

* * *

Russell walked down the hall at PD and ran into Sara. "Hey. How's it going in there?"

"It's not. He lawyered up."

"Wow, that was fast."

"Nick got him to admit to being at the scene at the time of the murder. It seemed like he was on the brink of confessing and then he just got smart."

Russell shook his head. "You know, the stupid thing is, if this was about avenging the death of his friend, he killed the wrong guy."

Sara was surprised. "What do you mean?"

Russell sighed. "Tony Agrerro and his crew alibied out for the murder in the alley. Morgan put them in a neighborhood bar at the time."

"Wait, wait, wait, wait. Then who killed our dead superhero?"

"That is still the question."

An officer walked up to Russell and Sara. "Hey. One of our officers just brought this in. Matches the description of the weapon you're looking for." He held up the evidence bag to display the club with metal bands that Jefferies had used on Agrerro's truck.

Russell looked up at the officer holding the weapon. "Where'd he find it?"

"The guy was threatening some tourists with it, outside the Palermo. I guess they wouldn't acknowledge him as the one, true Batman."

The officer stepped to the side so they could watch the suspect get brought in. It was Roger, the homeless man. He had added two trash bags and some tape to his outfit in an attempt to dress like a superhero. Sara looked at him, a sad look on her face. She was disappointed that Roger might have killed the man who had saved him from Agrerro's crew.

* * *

**A/N: Between the comments and PMs that I got regarding who should take that basement scene, Finn won out by one vote over Morgan. Thanks again to everyone who cast their votes! The next chapter will wrap this case up. Stay tuned!**


	29. Chapter 29

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank phnxgrl for her reviews. I'd also like to thank everyone for continuing to read this story. This is the last chapter of the "Hero to Zero" episode. The first little bit wasn't in the episode, but I feel like it could have been. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 29

Roger had been set up in the interrogation room to wait for Sara. She "stood" next to Russell looking at Roger through the window. His legs were shaking nervously and he was looking around at everything in confusion and, sometimes, curiosity. The handcuffs had been removed, but he was still dressed in the plastic bags he'd put together to try and look like Batman. In the corner, a uniform was watching him to make sure he didn't try to leave. As time wore on, Roger bent his head and looked at his hands.

Russell turned to Sara. "You want me to go in there?"

Sara shook her head. "No, I'll do it. I just wanted to see where his head was at before I did." She rotated the handles backward and sat again.

Russell watched her leave the room. "Good luck."

"Thanks." Sara rolled into the interrogation room. "Hi, Roger." The uniform closed the door behind her. "Do you remember me?"

Roger looked at her for several moments. "You gave me my shoes."

"I need you to tell me about that club that you were carrying."

Roger was swaying in his chair and avoiding eye contact. "The club is the source. The club gives me power. I am invincible with the club!" He became excited and flexed his muscles to demonstrate his invincibility.

"Where did you get the club?"

Roger looked up. "I… found it."

"You found it where? In the alley? The one that we were in the other night?"

Roger shook his head. "No. A different place. Uh, in a dumpster."

"Roger," Sara sighed, "that club belonged to someone. The man that saved you. You said he looked like Batman. You remember? I think that you were there, in the alley, after the fight, after the man with the cape and the mask was hurt. That's where you found the club, isn't it?"

He was shaking his head again. "No. I told you. The club is mine." He was getting agitated.

"What happened, Roger? Did he wake up? Did he startle you, scare you? Is that why you hit him?" Roger wasn't responding, and the questions were making him more agitated and nervous. Sara needed him to tell her what happened or there was nothing she could do to help him. "Roger, I need to know exactly what happened. The truth."

Roger got angry and started to hit the table. "The club's not his. The club is mine!"

Sara sat up and held out her hand to tell him to calm down. She also looked at the uniform to get him to stand down. Roger was just feeling like he was being attacked and had reacted the way years on the streets had taught him to act. The uniform slowly stepped back and Roger took a couple breaths to calm down. Sara crossed her hands on the table again and waited for Roger to continue.

The man was now close to tears. "I found it. In a dumpster. I don't know which one. There are so many."

Sara leaned forward, her voice calm and soothing. "Give me something then. So I can check your story."

Roger nodded. "A golden star."

Sara's brow creased in confusion. "What do you mean, a golden star?"

"That's it. A golden star."

* * *

Nick walked in to the break room and found Russell getting coffee. "Russell."

"Yeah."

"I think we just went from one unsolved murder back to two. I just read Doc Robbins' autopsy report on Tony Agrerro. Now, the cause of death, that's not a surprise- that dude was crushed. It's the time of death, that's a little off."

Russell wasn't liking the sound of Nick's information. "What do you mean, a little off?"

"According to Dave, it was around midnight, but according to Doc, it was much earlier." Nick shrugged. "Maybe as much as eighteen hours earlier."

That took Russell by surprise. "Whoa."

"Which means our other superhero, Scott Hunt, he doesn't work as the killer. He alibis out."

Russell shifted his weight. "So he was telling the truth when he said he got to the yard and Agrerro was already dead. How could David have been so far off with his estimate?"

Nick shook his head. "I don't think it was his fault. It was that truck engine. It really was running. Killer must've left it that way after the murder. But that engine would've kept that dead body warm now."

"Throwing off David's calculations when he did the liver stick. Okay, so new time of death. That would put Agrerro's murder just a little bit after Brad Jeffries was killed in the alley, right? Probably first thing in the morning. So what do you think? Maybe we have two bodies but just one killer."

Nick nodded. "And zero idea who it is."

Hodges walked in. "I have good news on our murder weapon, particularly if you're a fan of Ethiopian cuisine. There was butter on the club, infused with a host of exotic spices: fenugreek, cumin, coriander, turmeric, cardamom, cinnamon and nutmeg. A concoction more simply known as tesmi, common in Ethiopian cooking. I did a quick check and found an Ethiopian restaurant just five blocks from the alley where the victim was found."

While Hodges was talking, Nick and Russell were looking at each other with a mixture of amusement and confusion. The self-proclaimed "King of Trace" could be a pain in the butt sometimes, but he was brilliant and they wouldn't have been able to solve a number of cases without his tenacity and attention to detail. Hodges got to the end of his report and held up a sticky note with the address on it. Nick quickly snatched it from his hand. Hodges took that as a sign he'd been dismissed and left the break room. Nick looked at the address of the restaurant and Russell sent him to check it out with Finn.

* * *

From Hodges' information, Nick and Finn headed to the Ethiopian restaurant Hodges had found just blocks from the alley crime scene. Finn got out of the car and looked at the sign. "Well, there's our golden star."

"So maybe old Roger was telling the truth about the club."

Finn had her flashlight out. "Yeah."

Nick looked in the dumpster right underneath the golden star sign. "It's empty. Well, if the killer dumped the club in there, he figured he'd never see it again, 'cause it'd be hauled away with the trash, along with any piece of evidence that might've been along with it."

Finn looked up and noticed a security camera. "Oh, Nick." He turned around. Finn was looking at him with a broad smile on her face and pointed up the wall with her flashlight. "Look at that."

Nick looked up too and laughed when he saw the camera. Maybe that wouldn't need evidence from the dumpster after all. He looked back at Finn with a big smile on his face. "Say 'cheese.'"

* * *

Finn and Nick got the footage from the camera and screened it to see who had dumped the club. PD was then told to bring their suspect in.

Russell slid the still of Seth dumping the club in the dumpster behind the Ethiopian restaurant in front of Brad stepfather. "Clearly, this is you, Seth, ditching the murder weapon only minutes after Brad was killed."

Finn opened the folder in front of her. "We also have your phone records, yours and Agrerro's." She turned the folder around so Seth could see it. "Looks like you and he spoke several times, before and right after Brad was beaten in the alley."

"Seth, you need to talk to us, man. Y- you know what the jury's gonna think when they see this?" Russell placed the photo of Brad dead in the alley in front of Seth. "They're gonna think you're a monster. You're not a monster."

Seth glanced between the two CSIs for a moment before he spoke. "I was just trying to teach him a lesson. Twenty-three years old, living at home, dressing up in a costume. I- I thought I could scare him, make him stop."

Russell prompted him. "By having Tony Agrerro and his guys to beat him up? Y- you had warned him that… it was dangerous out there, and this was gonna make your point."

Seth got tense. "It wasn't even that planned."

Russell sat up. "Oh."

"I- I met Agrerro by chance at a neighborhood bar. I was bitching to the bartender about Brad and his friends, the- the whole superhero thing. And Agrerro overheard me. He came over, pissed off."

"Because Brad dented his truck."

"And- and now he expected me to pay the repairs. Said I owed him seven hundred bucks. I- I joked that I'd give him a thousand if he and his guys would… rough Brad up."

Finn didn't believe that's all it was. "So it was a joke."

Seth looked away from them. "I mean, at first. After a few drinks it started to sound like a good idea."

Russell put his hand on the pictures on the table to get Seth back to what had happened that night. "Let's talk about how we got here, okay? H- How did this night happen?"

Seth looked defeated. "Tony called… and said that he had done like we talked about, that they- they beat him up. And I waited for Brad to come home, e- expecting him to call it quits. But an hour passed, he didn't show up. So I went out looking for him. I found him in that alley, knocked out. He was just coming to. But to be honest, I felt bad for him. I mean, not my kid but- but I still cared." He sighed. "But I messed up. I g… I guess I said something about him being jumped by a gang."

Seth told them about the confrontation between them. How Brad had figured out that he was behind the brawl and how he'd threatened to get Seth kicked out when he told his mom about what Seth had done. How Brad had turned his back and Seth had hit him.

"It was just an impulse, a stupid mistake." Seth was choked up. "The club was in my hand…"

Finn decided to sound like she was on his side to get him to admit to everything he had done. "Seth, we get it. You're not a killer."

It worked. "No, I'm really not."

Russell wasn't completely on board with that strategy. "Yeah, but… wh-why don't you tell me about Tony." He set a photo of Tony's body crushed in the truck in front of Seth. "Tell me how that happened, Seth."

Seth kept glancing at the photo, but he couldn't keep his eyes on it for long, the sign of a guilty conscience. "I went to pay Tony the next morning. He must've heard about Brad being dead. He thought that he could blackmail me. So when he was on a call, I… jammed the winch cable on his truck. I knew he'd have to crawl in there to fix it. It was just a matter of throwing a lever."

"Okay." Russell glanced at Finn and then back at Seth. "So… the first killing was an impulse. The second killing was about money." Seth looked up at Russell with puppy dog eyes and nodded. Russell wasn't moved. "Why don't you tell us again how you're not a killer, Seth."

* * *

Sara was in the locker room packing up her bag to head home for the day. It had been an interesting case. A man dressed as a superhero saved a homeless man from a beating only to get beaten himself. Then the stepfather who'd hired the gang to beat the kid up turned around and killed his stepchild and the man he'd hired just to keep it quiet. Sara packed up the file folder she was taking home with her to finish typing up her reports. Greg was supposed to take her home, but he had to finish filing his reports first.

Russell almost walked by, but stopped when he saw her. "There you are. Good work on this one, by the way."

Sara turned in her seat. "Thanks. It was, uh, good work all around."

Russell held up the bag in his hands. "Got a little, uh… a little something for you here."

Sara took it from him. "What's this?"

"Take a look."

Sara reached into the bag and pulled out a few comic books. "Oh." She laughed. "Comic books." She couldn't stop smiling at the thought.

"Yep." Russell was leaning against the lockers. "I went through my collection. I put together a little 'greatest hits' bag for you. I also plain-wrapped it so I wouldn't blow your cover around here."

Sara was confused. "My cover?"

"Yeah, you know, as the hard science and number person who has no time for fantasy."

Sara was pursing her lips to try and keep herself from smiling at Russell's portrayal of her. "I actually don't have time for fantasy."

"See, that's wrong. Everybody needs a little fantasy."

Sara looked down at the comic book covers and then back up at Russell. "It's a lot of pressure, you know? What if I don't like them?" She flipped through the covers to see them all.

Russell was about to speak, and then paused as he re-chose his words. "Don't tell me." He turned and started to walk out of the locker room.

Sara called him back. "Hey, Russell." He stopped and turned, looking at her and waiting. "Thank you." She smiled.

Russell grinned too. "Yeah. You're welcome."

* * *

**A/N: I love the Russell and Sara scenes. I'm hoping for a new CSI episode to write up soon while I work on the non-cannon case. Stay tuned!**


	30. Chapter 30

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank phnxgrl, joann, and stlouiegal for their reviews. phnxgrl: I thought that conversation at the end of the episode was fun too. joann: Sorry I didn't post sooner. As I said in my author's note: I didn't originally think that the last three episodes of the season had a lot of Sara scenes, but looking at them again, I'm reconsidering. stlouiegal: I think that they all hold a bit of reluctance to allow the "superheroes" do what they're doing, Nick probably most of all. Also, I think Russell is a father figure to all of them, the exception being maybe Finn. I love the family feeling he promotes within the team.**

**This is the start of the episode "The Last Ride". Upon review, I realized that this episode had more Sara in it than I initially thought, so I adapted it too. I hope you all enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 30

Nick pulled up to the crime scene and got out of the SUV to see Crawford waiting between the coroner's van, where David was filling out a form, and a cruiser. He grabbed his kit out of the backseat and walked to the detective. There was a look in the detective's eyes that said this case was a little strange. There must be something on or near the body that made him think that.

"What do we have, Crawford?"

Crawford turned and they ducked under the tape together. "The hiker called it in. Saw something glittering near the trailhead."

"Glittering?"

"Yeah. At first he thought it was trash, maybe tinfoil. Well, turns out it wasn't tinfoil at all."

They came around a group of bushes and saw a woman covered in shiny silver paint lying against a log. She was in a tight, short dress and except for the fact that she was dead, it looked like she was just reclining peacefully. The CSI came to a stop to get a good look at the big picture.

Nick was thinking she kind of looked like the tin-man from The Wizard of Oz. "More like a tin-woman."

Crawford got the reference as his phone rang. "She never found that yellow brick road." He pulled out his phone, letting Nick know he was walking away by tapping him on the shoulder.

Nick had to agree with Crawford's assessment. "No."

The detective answered his phone as he walked. "This is Crawford."

David came back to the scene. "Hey, Nick. Talk about your Silver Surfer, huh?"

Nick set down his kit. "You get any ID on her yet?"

David knelt down. "No purse. The only thing on her besides this dress…" he turned her so Nick could see the injury "…is blunt-force trauma."

Nick had crouched a little to see the blood and stood up as David rolled her back to her original position. "Do we have any idea on the time of death?"

David turned to the other coroner's assistant. "Jimmy, you got that, yeah?"

Jimmy held up his notepad. "Yeah, liver temp puts it between 12am and 3am."

"Midnight and three, okay, thanks, Jimbo."

Crawford came back. "That's one hell of a sight."

"Yeah."

"That's straight out of Goldfinger." That was the third movie reference of the night. "What do you make of it?"

Nick sighed. "I hate to speculate before we've collected any evidence, but this is Vegas, she could just be eye candy for some rich guy's party, for all we know."

Crawford was skeptical. "Eye candy, really?"

"You can rent pretty girls like this and paint them up for parties nowadays."

"If she was someone's eye candy fantasy, she's not anymore. They chewed her up and they spit her out."

Nick had to agree. "Only in the Silver State."

* * *

Morgan did the preliminary exam. First she photographed the victim's body, and then she swabbed her body to collect paint samples and maybe touch DNA. Once she was done with that, she cut the dress off of her and bagged it for further analysis. David came in when Morgan was done and carefully washed off the paint and collected her prints for Morgan to run. Doc performed the autopsy once she was ready and found that the victim had not been killed by the blunt force trauma to her neck. She had actually drowned in the paint she'd been covered with.

Russell came in to receive the autopsy report. Doc showed him one of Ava's lungs. "Looks like our Silver Girl was more than just silver on the outside."

Doc returned the lung to a tray. "I found silver paint in both lungs."

"So, blunt-force trauma was not the cause of death."

"No, she asphyxiated. In silver paint."

Russell shook his head. "Not something you see every day."

"No, but this is, at least in this town. Our girl here liked to party." Doc pointed to her nose. "Nasal perforations and irritations in the lung passages suggest chronic drug use. And besides the blunt-force trauma, I found other evidence of a struggle before she succumbed to the silver." He gestured to the bruises on her back. "There's a linear contusion pattern over the trapezius here."

"Looks like parallel lines."

"Yeah, kind of like a barbecue grill. Whatever it was, it impacted her strongly. There's also a strange bruising pattern right here between the lines." Doc picked up a small container. "Dug out some glass particles from her elbow. Might tell us what we're looking at."

Russell took the container and held it up to examine the glass. The pieces were still bloody. "Thanks, Doc."

Morgan pushed open the door. "Hey."

"Hey."

She held out a folder. "Got an ID on our Silver Girl. Her prints were in the system. Ava Montrose, a local with a long sheet. Numerous burglary and drug arrests."

Russell glanced back at Doc. "Next of kin?"

Morgan opened the folder. "Her last known address was her mother's place in Summerlin. Her mom is on her way here now. Sara's going to do the notification."

* * *

Sara met with the victim's mother in the reception area of PD. "Mrs. Montrose, when was the last time you saw your daughter?"

Mrs. Montrose and her boyfriend were dressed very well and were holding hands. Strangely, they took the news of Ava's death very well. "I haven't seen Ava for months. I was always afraid something like this was going to happen. Crowds she ran with, places she'd go."

"What places would that be?"

"Places where you- you buy drugs."

The boyfriend jumped in. "A Dangerous-looking drug dealer once showed up at our door, looking for her."

"Did you catch the drug dealer's name?"

He shook his head. "No. And Ava wouldn't say. We never had the best relationship."

"Why's that?"

Mr. Reidel sighed. "She resented me. For taking the place of her father. After Ruth and he split up."

"It's not your fault, Duncan. Truth is," Ava's mother paused, emotion finally wiggling it's way into her voice, "Ava didn't listen to anybody but Ava. Do you have children, Miss Sidle?"

Sara shook her head, hiding her pain at knowing that her chances were slim, especially now that she was in a wheelchair. "I don't."

Mrs. Montrose sat up. "It's not right for a mother to bury her daughter." Sara didn't know what to say to that and the mother started to cry. "It's not right. It's not right."

Sara paused a moment to let the woman cry. "We are gonna find out who did this. Is there anyone that you can think of that I should talk to? A friend or boyfriend?"

Mrs. Montrose had calmed down a little. "Ava had lots of boyfriends. Nothing serious. I- I wish I could help more, but Ava, her life, her friends, she was always a mystery to me."

* * *

**Meanwhile...**

Finn walked into Trace to get Hodges' analysis of the paint their victim had been covered in and the glass shards from her elbow. She found him browsing through a fan deck of paint colors. "Redecorating your mother's house?"

Hodges lowered the paint colors. "I am, actually. But that's not why I'm studying these shades of gray. The silver covering our victim's body was indeed paint. But not just any paint." He gestured to the fan deck on his table. "Chromic potassium sulfate."

"Chrome?"

"Exactly. It's a new environmentally friendly chrome that's being used in the auto-painting industry." He held up a picture of the paint covered victim. "This color is called 'silver zephyr'."

Finn took the photo from Hodges. "What about the glass shards in her elbow?"

"They follow a similar road. The glass is from a car headlamp. It's made of bisphenal polycarbonate. And it's suggestive of a non-sealed beam headlamp. Now, those were discontinued by government mandate in 1939. I'm thinking that Ava Montrose was in an altercation in close proximity to a car. Now, Doc thought that these grill marks might be from a barbecue," Hodges held out a picture of Ava's bruised back, "but perhaps they're from a car."

Finn took that picture too. "And not just any car; a classic car, pre-1939."

"Doesn't exactly narrow it down."

"Unless, of course, you know what you're looking for."

* * *

Finn took the photo of Ava's bruises and enhanced the image until she was able to match the unidentified bruising pattern to the company logo for Packard Motor Car Company. It appeared that Ava Montrose was attacked near an old Packard. There couldn't be too many of those cars still around. She did some digging and then called Russell into the layout room when she was ready to report her findings.

Russell was admiring the pictures of a Packard she had found online. "That is a beautiful car."

"1938 Packard Touring Sedan. Pushrod straight-6. 130 horsepower. And a symbol of a dying era. You know, they went out of business a couple years later."

"So, what? You thinking that Ava Montrose had a run-in with this car?"

Finn nodded and gestured to the bruises on Ava's back. "Yeah, well, bruising on her back says so. And I believe," she pointed to the laceration on Ava's neck, "that the trauma to her neck was caused by the famous Packard 'Goddess of Speed' hood ornament."

Russell looked from the laceration on Ava's neck and the picture of the hood ornament neck to it. "All right, I buy that. Can't be that many 1938 Packards in Vegas."

"I found two in the DMV. First one is owned by a collector who kept it in his garage which burned down six months ago."

"Scratch Packard number one."

"Number two is alive and well, and owned by an investment banker named Carlo Derosa." Finn picked up the picture she'd found of Derosa.

"What do we know about him?"

"He won't return my calls, so he is either a very busy man, or he may be hiding something."

* * *

**A/N: I'm going to be changing my posting pattern for this story. Until I know when/if CSI is coming back next season, I will be posting only once a week. That way I can stretch out what I have to work with and hopefully not have to leave large (read month-long) gaps between posts. Thank you all for your patience and stay tuned!**


	31. Chapter 31

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank phnxgrl, joann, and stlouiegal for their reviews. stlouiegal: your reviews always make me laugh. No, I will not give you any hints. I might explain something that I failed to explain in a chapter, but I'm not the kind to give out spoilers. There wouldn't be any surprises then! :)**

**This chapter starts in the next scene from the episode. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 31

Finn helped Sara get out of the SUV in the parking lot for Carlo Derosa's investment banking business. Derosa's parking space was empty when they arrived, but a high-end Mercedes Benz was pulling into the lot right now. It sounded like this car had all the bells and whistles, and since they were looking for a man who could afford to own and maintain a classic car like a 1938 Packard, this car would most likely belong to that same man.

They watched as it slowed to begin parking. "How much you want a bet this is Derosa?"

Finn looked at Sara. "Maybe."

The car stopped in Derosa's spot and he opened the butterfly door, talking on his cell. "All right, you know, I say that we just pay the fines, and then we can tell the regulators to shove it." He closed the door, paying no attention to the CSIs approaching him.

"Excuse me, uh, Carlo Derosa? Hi. I'm Julie Finlay. This is Sara Sidle." He covered the mouthpiece of the phone to prevent the person on the other end from hearing them and kept walking, barely looking at them. "We're with the crime lab. We need to speak with you."

Derosa wagged his finger at them dismissively. "No, no, no. I'm busy. Just call my office."

Sara looked at Finn, who was watching Derosa's back in disbelief. "I got this." It had been a while since she had done anything to annoy a suspect, and this was the perfect opportunity.

She rolled over to his car and leaned on it till the alarm went off. She quickly rolled away and Derosa turned around at last, shocked and pissed that his car had been touched. "Oh, oh- I- I'm sorry, did that just happen?"

Sara put a hand near her ear. "I can't hear you." Finn was enjoying this exchange and had a big grin on her face.

Derosa fished the keys out of his pocket and turned off the alarm. Sara smiled. "Oh, that's better."

Derosa was still pissed. "What the hell is happening here?"

Now that they had his attention, Finn walked forward. "Do you own a 1938 Packard?"

Derosa was trying very hard not to look rattled now. "Yes, I do. What's it to you?"

Sidle was at Finn's side. "A woman was killed last night, and the evidence traces to your car."

That had Derosa's attention. "What woman? What- what, what are you talking about?"

Finn showed Derosa a picture of Ava on the autopsy table. "Ava Montrose. Do you know her?"

Derosa was stunned and he put a hand over his mouth. "Oh, my God, uh… That's my ex-girlfriend."

"Your ex?"

"Yeah, yeah, no, we broke up about a year ago. I haven't seen her since. Hang on. What happened here?"

Finn wanted more answers from him before she told him anything. "Where do you keep your Packard?"

"In the vault." He spoke as if they knew what he was talking about.

Sara hadn't heard of a place with that name before. "'The vault'?"

Derosa was back to his arrogant demeanor. "Yeah, that's what I said, the vault. It's in a warehouse downtown."

Sara and Finn looked at each other. "We're gonna need you to show us where that is."

* * *

Derosa took them to the vault with a police car escorting him. He let them into the lobby, which was nicely decorated, covering up the fact that it was a warehouse and not a top of the line car showroom. The actual cars were kept in the next room, which required a code to get passed the door. Derosa punched in the code and the lock on the door clicked open.

He led the way inside. "My dad was a classic car collector, and, uh, he built this place to keep his babies safe." He led them to a spot and then stopped.

Finn noticed how dark it was. "Somebody forget to pay the power bill?"

"Nope. No, my dad liked to show his cars off. His favorite part was… the unveiling." He pulled a remote from his pocket and hit a button. The lights turned on and music started playing. A dozen cars were in here, red carpets between them so anyone viewing the cars wouldn't have to step on the hard, white, polished floor. The cars were from all different eras, dating back to the earliest Fords. He started walking forward. "Welcome, to car heaven."

Finn looked like she was in heaven as she followed him deeper into the room. "Wow. They don't make 'em like these anymore. Is that a '57 Chevy?"

"You got it. Uh, V-8 engine and twin barrel… blah, blah, blah, blah. All I know is that it's old and it's slow."

"That's one way to look at it." Finn couldn't understand how he could look at that car that way.

Sara was looking around the showroom and noticed there wasn't a Packard in sight. "Where's the Packard?"

Derosa looked around. "Oh! Um… yeah, it's getting a touch-up. It's in the mechanic's bay." He pointed to an area that was separated from the rest of the showroom.

Another man entered the room. "What the hell's going on? What do you think you're doing, Carlo? I told you, no buyers!"

"No, you need to back up, dude, okay?"

Sara jumped in before the argument could get more heated. "Who are you?"

He looked down at her with incredulity. "The owner of these cars."

Carlo finally introduced them to the man. "This is my charming brother, Aron. And you are not the owner."

"Neither are you." He turned to Finn. "They're not for sale."

Finn met his raised voice with her sass. "We're not buyers."

Aron was confused and Carlo decided to clear it up for him. "They're cops."

While Finn walked away to check out the mechanic's bay, Sara explained what was going on to Aron. "We're CSI's. We're investigating a murder- a woman named Ava Montrose."

Aron stared at Sara for a moment and then looked at Carlo. "Ava?"

"My ex, Aron. You remember her."

"It's hard to keep track of your bimbo parade. I- I don't understand. What does this have to do with the vault?"

While they were busy discussing that, Finn slid open the door of the mechanic's bay and took a look inside. The Packard was right where Carlo said it would be and there were obvious signs of a struggle in here. The headlamp was busted with what looked like blood on some of the glass and a bath of chrome paint had obviously been disturbed recently, if the paint on the floor around it was any indication. Finn seriously doubted that normal chrome-work had been done with that many splashes around the tub.

Finn walked to the door of the mechanic's bay. "Hey, Sara. Can you come here a sec?"

Sara turned to the uniform. "Hey. You keep an eye on them, please?" The uniform nodded and walked to a spot where he was between the brothers and the mechanic's bay. Sara rolled over to the bay door and slowly went inside. "Is this our '38 Packard?"

"Yes, it is. And there definitely was a struggle. Watch your wheels in here."

Sara turned to look at the chrome paint filled tub. "That struggle ended with a fatal chrome bath."

Finn turned on her flashlight and panned it over the ground away from the chrome vat. "Oh, check it out. Couple of drops of chrome."

Sara shined her light on it too. "Kind of looks like they're heading out the door."

"Yeah, maybe carrying our Silver Woman."

The two started following the chrome drops. The drops led out of the mechanic's bay and along the wall. Sara followed Finn, careful not to let her wheels roll over the drops and disturb what was now a crime scene. A few groupings of drops later and the trail came to an end. The spot looked as though a car should have been parked there.

"Yep, the trail ends right over here. The only empty parking spot in the whole place."

Sara looked over at the brothers. "Hey, guys, can you join us? I assume there's usually a car parked here."

Aron looked upset. "Oh, my God, where's the car?"

"The car" wasn't a good enough description for Finn. "What car?"

"The '76 Cadillac." Aron was looking at his brother. "The most valuable car in the collection."

Carlo was upset too. "God, I can't believe this. Caddy's gone. Ava's dead. What the hell happened here?"

Sara was thinking the same thing. "Yeah, that's what we'd like to know. Along with, what is it about your stolen car that was worth dying over?"

* * *

Finn and Sara separated the brothers to interview them separately. Finn was talking to Aron who was clearly upset. "I- I can't believe this is happening. I mean, who would do this?"

"Aron, we found no signs of any break-in, so besides you and your brother, who else had access to the place?"

"Uh, just Rubio, our mechanic. Uh, he's the only other person who would know the security code."

There was a new suspect to add to their list. "And how well do you know him?"

Aron became protective. "If you're asking if I trust him, absolutely. He's been with the family for twenty years. He's not even in the country right now. He left for Italy two days ago."

Okay, so maybe not a new suspect. "What about you? Where were you last night?"

"I was at my studio, painting. Landscapes, not women."

"And Carlo? Where was he last night?"

Aron shook his head. "You'd have to ask him."

In the meantime, Sara was asking Carlo similar questions. She had just asked him where he had been last night. "Uh, I was in my office until about midnight."

"Anyone with you?"

Carlo was back to his self-assured attitude again. "No, I sent my assistant home around about ten."

Sara had a feeling that if they checked that, they would find that he was lying. "How long were you dating Ava Montrose?"

"About a year. I tried cutting it off six months into it, but, uh, she had a hard time letting go."

"If you weren't with her last night, then what was she doing here?"

Carlo laughed. "That is a damn good question."

"Is there any chance that Ava knew the security code?"

He looked thoughtful. "We used to come down here a lot. She could've, I guess, easily looked over my shoulder while I was punching it in. I mean, she did love this place. She especially loved my dad's old Caddy."

That was some interesting news. "Enough to try and steal it?"

Carlo hesitated and Sara could see there was more to the Caddy than he was telling her. "Look… Ava was a messed-up kid. We both partied way too hard back in the day. I mean, I cleaned up my act… but Ava did not."

Sara smirked at what he had implied and hastily covered up. "What can you tell me about this car? '76 Caddy. Sounds nice, but… what, exactly, makes it so valuable?"

Finn had finally managed to get the story of the Caddy from Aron. "My father was murdered in it."

"And that makes it more valuable?"

"There's a certain crowd of collectors who pay serious money for so-called 'death cars'. James Dean's Porsche, Jayne Mansfield's Buick Electra…"

Finn knew what he was talking about, and interrupted him. "I'm sorry, I don't recognize the name 'Derosa'. Your father was famous?"

"You're not from around here, are you?"

"No, I'm from Seattle."

"My dad was Alfonz Derosa. Kind of a Vegas legend." Aron didn't sound affronted that she wasn't familiar with the name, but he said it like it should have been common knowledge for her.

Finn was thinking they may want Greg to get involved with this case. "Okay, so you're saying that he was murdered in the Cadillac?"

Carlo nodded as he recounted the same details to Sara. "He was gunned down by a hit man. October third, 1989. Killer worked for Pete Bamonte, a Chicago loan shark."

"I've heard that story, actually. How much is the Cadillac worth?"

"It'd be close to a million."

That was a lot of money for an old car. "And the rest of the collection?"

Carlo sucked in a breath as he quickly did a rough estimate. "All up, we'd be talking about five."

"I gather, from your argument, that you're ready to sell, but your brother, Aron, isn't."

Carlo smiled. "Yeah, we've been battling over what to do with the collection since, um… our mom died."

"When was that?"

"Two months ago. According to the will, we both own equal shares in the cars. I offered to split the… the collection in half. You know, I'd sell mine, he could keep his. Actually, you know, Aron's the one who could use the money, but… Van Gogh won't compromise."

"Van Gogh?" Sara wasn't sure why Carlo was calling his brother Van Gogh.

Carlo explained. "Kid's a starving artist." He laughed at his personal joke. "The worst kind. Talent-less. Anyway, he needs to grow up."

* * *

**A/N: Not much time was covered by this chapter, but lots of information. Leave a comment below and stay tuned for next week's chapter!**


	32. Chapter 32

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank phnxgrl and stlouiegal for their reviews. stlouiegal: lots of questions and they (hopefully) all get answered over the course of the case. I agree that Carlo should have changed the code when he broke up with Ava; that's what I would have done. phnxgrl: interesting way to put Ava's manner of death, but very accurate.**

**This chapter starts with the next scene in the episode. I have altered it slightly to add a little more Sara. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 32

Finn ducked under the tape to return to the Mechanic's bay with her camera in hand, wearing her coveralls in case she had to go under the Packard. Sara was in the show room taking pictures of the empty parking space and anything else she thought was relevant. Greg was already in the mechanic's bay, examining the black and white pictures on the wall. He glanced in her direction as she came in; the excitement of being in the same room where an old mobster's prized car collection got serviced was barely concealed on his face. This had to be thrilling for Greg. Finn headed over to him.

Greg gestured to the pictures with his chin. "Talk about an icon of Vegas history."

"Hmm. Didn't you write a book about Vegas mobsters?"

Greg turned to her, a smirk on his face. "Alfonz Derosa had his own chapter."

"What was his story?"

"Savvy businessman, ruthless killer. He ran the skim at the Tangier's counting room. Guy was known as 'The Vise.'"

"I guess he didn't get his nickname for his woodworking." Finn was curious as to how someone would get a nickname like that.

"It's how he broke his enemies' knees."

"Mmm, they really don't make 'em like they used to."

"No."

"So tell me about Derosa's murder." Finn turned from the picture of Derosa with his Caddy to Greg.

"Well, in 1989, The Vise was in a turf war with, uh, Pete Bamonte, some hothead from Chicago. One night, The Vise took his mistress for a drive up to a lovers' lane near Mount Charleston. That was his last ride." Greg pause for a moment, the smile of someone telling a ghost story on his lips. "They parked. Romance was in the air. Then the mood was broken… and Alfonz Derosa and his mistress were dead. Some hit man with ties to Bamonte was eventually convicted for the murder. Some jailhouse snitch dimed him out. He eventually died in prison."

"And what happened to the sons? They must have been pretty young."

"Their mother raised them. And as far as anybody can tell, they didn't follow in their dad's footsteps."

Finn nodded. "So now one's an investment banker and one's an artist, and they hate each other."

"And they both have access to this place."

Finn started shaking her head. "I don't believe a word either of them says. So maybe our witness on wheels can help us."

They turned from the pictures on the wall and started processing the Packard. Finn started photographing the front end of the car while Greg shined his light on the passenger side. Finn started with the wide angle shots and then took a few close-ups of the headlamp and the grill. Greg examined the front wheel well, then the running board, then the paint-job on the exterior of the rear wheel well. He thought he saw scratches and crouched to take a closer look, but it turned out to be nothing.

Finn went to take a picture on the hood ornament and noticed something that made her pause. "Looks like we've got blood on the hood ornament."

Greg stood up. "That would confirm your theory that Ava had a run-in with the car."

Finn snapped a picture of the bloody hood ornament, imagining the struggle that would have resulted in the blunt force trauma and bruising that Ava had displayed. Greg opened the passenger door and took pictures of the interior. Finn swabbed the hood ornament and capped the swab. The flashlight in her hand illuminated something under the car and Finn looked to see that it was a broken heel from a stiletto shoe.

"Got something else. She broke a heel." Finn grabbed the heel from under the car and stood to meet Greg so he could see too. "I think there's some residue on it." She grabbed a bag from her kit for the heel.

Greg moved toward the vat of paint and took pictures of all the paint spatter on the walls and floor. "Got a partial shoe impression."

"Could be a man's loafer."

"Could be. So Ava breaks her heel trying to get away. Killer grabs her near the chrome vat."

Finn nodded. "Gives her a silver dye job to die for."

"Puts the body in the Caddy…" they walked to where the Caddy had been parked "…and drives away." Greg walked across the parking spot with his light shining on the polished floor. "I know you don't trust the brothers, but if one of them did it, why not clean up?"

Finn had to admit that she hadn't thought of that before. "You have a point."

Greg turned around and the beam of his light fell on something under the tire of the car parked next to the Caddy. Sara was already taking a picture of it. She bent over to try and grab it, but her chair made it difficult to get the right angle.

She turned to Greg. "Can you grab that please?"

Finn looked over at them. "You got something?"

"Yeah." Greg took a close-up picture and then grabbed the item, turning it in his fingers to get a good look as he stood up. "It's a promotional magnet. 'Cienzo's Pizzeria.' Specks of chrome on it. Says to me this was here last night."

Sara took it from him when he handed it to her. "Maybe the killer dropped it. Gives us something to sink our teeth into."

* * *

Henry and Hodges opened the pizza box and they both grabbed a slice as Russell walked in. "Ah! Pizza party." Henry spun around like a kid who'd been caught doing something he shouldn't, put his slice back in the box and closed it up quickly. Hodges simply turned to face the lab supervisor, pizza slice in hand, mouth full, with a grin on his face. "Thanks for the invite. All right, I've only got a little while here. What do you got?"

Hodges pointed to his mouth to indicate he couldn't talk and then pointed to Henry. Henry didn't want to go first, so he pointed to Hodges, but realized Hodges wasn't going to say anything with a mouthful of pizza. He looked at Russell, still worried about breaking the "no food in the lab" rule. This might get interesting.

"Yeah. I ran touch DNA on the security keypad at the vault. Besides the brothers, I found a match to Ava Montrose."

"Confirms she knew the password."

Henry relaxed as he saw Russell wasn't getting them in trouble. "And suggesting maybe she graduated from stealing watches to stealing cars."

Russell nodded and then turned to Hodges. "Is that all you got there, Papa John?"

Hodges swallowed. "Far from it. This is a slice of Cienzo's pizza."

Henry jumped in to explain. "Uh, the pizza parlor with the promotional magnet. We were just there."

Hodges ignored Henry. "Thin crust. Very New Yorky. Delish."

"I don't suppose one of their employees is our killer?"

"None of them has a record, if that's what you're asking." Hodges set his slice of pizza down and brushed off his hands. "And none of them collects cars. However, I did run the credit cards for the past week and came across a very interesting customer. Henry."

Henry looked at Hodges. "What?"

Hodges looked at Henry in disbelief. "The magnets," he snapped his fingers, "please."

"Right, right." Henry reached into his pocket, looking and Russell and mouthing "I'm sorry" as he finally managed to pull them out and handed them to Hodges.

Hodges held up the two magnets. "We picked up these exemplar magnets at the pizzeria. I think I can use them to explain what the magnet that Greg and Sara found was doing at the classic car vault. Allow me to demonstrate." He stuck one magnet on one side of the fender.

Russell was waiting for the demonstration, but Hodges simply stood there smiling. "You're showing me how a magnet works." He waited a moment for Hodges to continue, but the man again just stood there smiling. "Are you looking to get fired today?"

Hodges held up the other magnet. "Wait for it." He placed the magnet on the other side of the fender and moved his hand. Unlike the first magnet, the second simply dropped to the table. "Voilà. The magnet sticks to one side of the fender, but not the other. Why? Because this part of the fender has been repaired. It's made with Bondo automotive filler."

Russell held up the fallen magnet. "So the magnet didn't stick."

"It's a little trick that car appraisers use."

Henry nodded. "And… according to credit card records, there is a certain Vegas car appraiser who eats at Cienzo's once a week." Henry looked over at Hodges. Now that his demonstration was over, the Trace lab rat had picked up his slice of pizza and started eating it again.

* * *

Sara rolled into the interrogation room to talk to the car appraiser who loved Cienzo's Pizza. "Thanks for coming in, Mr. Bixler. I have a couple of questions about your car appraisal business."

Bixler smiled as she parked her chair. "Whatever you need."

Sara put the folder she had with her on the table. "Are you familiar with the Alfonz Derosa collection?"

"Intimately. I was, uh, recently hired by the estate to appraise their cars, just after Mrs. Derosa passed away."

"When was that?" Sara knew the promotion on the magnet they found was recent.

"Uh, about two months ago."

"Hm. So you haven't been back to the vault since?"

Bixler was starting to get nervous. "No."

"I see." Sara looked at him for several moments and then opened the folder. "I understand that you're also a regular at Cienzo's Pizzeria on Flamingo."

Bixler relaxed and laughed. "Guilty as charged. Uh, is that a crime? I mean, I know that it's not good for me…"

Sara interrupted. "Have you ever used one of their magnets to appraise a car?"

"Uh, yes. Uh, yeah, they're quite handy."

"Explains why we found one in the vault."

Bixler got nervous again. "Um, yeah, um, like I said, I was there two months ago."

"Mm-hmm. Well, the pizzeria has a great special right now." Sara picked up a photo of the magnet they'd found in the vault. "Large, two toppings for $7.99. But it just started this week." She closed the folder and placed the picture in front of Bixler. "And we found this magnet in Derosa's vault yesterday. It's the same place where a woman named Ava Montrose was murdered. I do not like being lied to. Were you there last night?"

"No. I swear, no. I…"

"Come on, Mr. Bixler."

"Uh, but I was there three days ago."

Sara started counting on her fingers. "So first it was two months ago, and now it's three days ago."

Bixler straightened up. "Look, I realize I lied to you. I'm sorry. Um, I have a very good reason."

"What's that?"

"Carlo Derosa, uh, he hired me to do an updated appraisal of a '76 Cadillac. A very generous one. He can be most persuasive."

"Why did he want a new appraisal?"

Bixler's hands were tightly clenched in front of him. "He wouldn't tell me. I can only assume that he had a buyer lined up."

"Did his brother Aron know about it?"

Bixler looked afraid of the younger brother. "No. No, if he found out, I'm sure he would have blocked the sale. Look, I'm a little scared telling you all this. Um…" Bixler learned forward as though he was telling her a secret. Sara leaned forward too to make sure she could hear. "Uh, you know who Carlo Derosa's father was?"

Okay, so what he had to say wasn't really a secret, but she whispered back anyway. "Yeah, I know."

* * *

When Sara returned to the lab, Russell was there to meet her. She told him about what Bixler said, including his fear of the Derosa name. "You know, this whole thing is starting to look more and more like an inside job."

"One that went sideways. Carlo Derosa wants to sell his father's Caddy. His brother gets wind of the sale and stops him."

"Right, so Carlo calls his morally-challenged ex-girlfriend. But he doesn't want to get his hands dirty, and he needs an alibi."

Russell's theory was sounding good to Sara. "So maybe Ava enlists one of her sketchy friends to help. Someone with experience in auto theft. Friend sees the car, gets greedy…"

"Kills her, takes the car, dumps her body."

Morgan came out of the A/V room. "Hey." Russell and Sara turned around. "We need to talk shoes." Sara leaned forward to look down at her feet. "Not yours. Just got the result on the trace we found on Ava's broken heel. Elements of concrete and titanium oxide. Now, I've seen this before. It's a unique road-paving material they use to eliminate pollution. It's found on a half-mile strip of Verdugo Street."

Russell recognized the street. "That's an industrial neighborhood, right?"

"Exactly. And I did some searching, it's the exact neighborhood where Ava Montrose just rented a 20-by-20 storage unit."

"That's the perfect size to hide a car."

* * *

Nick and Crawford headed to the storage space Ava had rented. The padlock that should have held the door closed was on the ground in front of the unit. "Busted lock. Someone got here before us."

Crawford pulled out his gun and moved to the other side of the rolling door. Together, they lifted the door till it was most of the way open. "LVPD. Anybody in here?"

Nick shined his light on the back of the car. "Here's our Caddy."

Crawford glanced at it. "Yeah." There was a clattering sound toward the back of the unit. Crawford shined his light toward the back corner and glanced at Nick. Nick undid the clasp on his gun to back Crawford up if necessary. "LVPD. Come on out." Nick pulled his gun out of its holster as Crawford continued talking. "Listen to me. If you don't want to die today, show yourself slowly."

From behind some boxes emerged Aron Derosa. Nick held up his gun and pointed it at Derosa. "Let me see some hands."

Derosa held up his hands. In his left were the keys to the Caddy. "You're making a mistake."

"No, you're the one who's made the mistake."

* * *

**A/N: I loved the pizza scene with Henry and Hodges. Next week will continue this case. Stay tuned!**


	33. Chapter 33

**Author's Note: I'm a day late to post this, but I didn't forget. I was having computer issues. Anyway, I'd like to thank stlouiegal and phnxgrl for their reviews. stlouiegal: my favorite Greg scene when he was still a lab rat was when he danced/jumped out of the DNA lab wearing the beaded and bedazzled showgirl hat. That was just great. phnxgrl: watching the episode, when we found out that the Derosa boys had a mobster for a father, I knew it was only a matter of time before Greg and his mob history knowledge would come in. This chapter starts after the Caddy is found. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 33

Back at PD, Crawford interrogated Aron Derosa. Aron claimed that Ava and he were in love, and explained to Crawford that he wanted to keep the car because that was how he remembered his father, who would take him for rides in that Caddy. He also swore that Carlo had to be the one who had conned Ava into stealing the car so he could sell it behind his back. From that info, Finn and Russell had found the website where Carlo had posted the sale. Apparently a deposit had been put down by an anonymous buyer, and Carlo hadn't returned the deposit. They had a third suspect: the scorned buyer.

While that was happening, Greg and Morgan processed the recovered Caddy. Greg snapped a few pictures. "I can't believe this backseat. You could have a picnic in there."

"I think Alfonz and his mistress were up to more than that."

"Talk about a last ride."

Morgan giggled and then noticed something on the front seat. "I think I may have found something from our killer's last ride. Some sort of fiber." Greg snapped a couple pictures of it and Morgan tweezed it out from between the seat cushions to put the fiber in a container. She put the lid on, then moved the seat forward and noticed something else. "I think I found a chrome flake, too."

"Could be from our Silver Woman. We know this car was used for the body dump."

Morgan pointed toward the trunk. "Maybe she was transported in the trunk. You look in there yet?"

"Nope." Greg grabbed the keys off the dashboard and held them up. "Let's check it out." He opened the trunk. "Oh. A tarp with chrome paint and blood. Confirms that theory." He took some pictures.

"Yep." Morgan moved the tarp to look at what she'd seen just poking out from under it. "Ooh, what's that?"

Greg snapped a couple pictures of it and then grabbed the file. "A copy of Ken Bixler's appraisal of this car. Looks like it was printed from the Farringer web site."

"Well, maybe this printout will give us a print."

Greg dusted the printout and only got a partial. Morgan swabbed it for touch DNA and got a female familial match to Ava Montrose. Ava's mother was the one who had printed and handled the appraisal report.

* * *

Mrs. Montrose was brought in for questioning and Sara was the one to interrogate her. She asked about why Mrs. Montrose's DNA was on the appraisal report they had found in the trunk of the Caddy and Ava's mother told her all about asking Ava to get the car for her. How Ava had been sassy and reluctant until she'd been convinced that it had to be done.

"So you admit to asking your own daughter to help you steal a car."

"Ava knew how to get into the vault. It's appalling, I know."

Sara shook her head in disbelief. "I can't argue with that. Why did you need to buy the car so badly?"

Mrs. Montrose's eyes were veiled with reluctance to talk about this. "I wasn't the buyer. I was just an intermediary for a wealthy gentleman from Dubai. I met him at a party a month ago. He loves Mob lore and cars. I told him that Alfonz Derosa's death car was for sale."

Sara wanted to keep her talking. "And he was interested?"

"He was ready to pay two million when he came back from Dubai."

"Double the appraisal, double the purchase price. That's not a bad profit. So, you borrowed the money from a loan shark to make the deposit."

"Yes. And then that sentimental fool, Aron Derosa, canceled the sale."

"And that's when your problems really started." Sara paused for a moment. "What happened to Ava in that vault?"

Mrs. Montrose chuckled sadly. "I have no idea." She looked away.

"Yeah, see, I thought we were getting somewhere."

Mrs. Montrose was outraged. "I wasn't there. I would never murder my own daughter."

"I wish I could believe that, Mrs. Montrose. I've seen a lot over the years. Nothing surprises me."

Mrs. Montrose took a breath, her carefully crafted demeanor slowly slipping back into place. "Believe what you will. I think Ava brought an unsavory friend to help her. And then something went terribly wrong."

* * *

"Well, she's not going to win mother of the year awards."

"But would she kill her own daughter?" Sara kept pace with Russell as they moved down the hall at PD.

"You believe her story?"

"Well, I think there's a pragmatic woman under all that crazy, and her daughter's more valuable alive than dead."

Russell fished his ringing phone out of his coat pocket. "Mmm. Greg wants to know if I feel like taking a ride back to the past. Come on. I'll take you back to the lab."

* * *

In the layout room, Greg had spread out the photos from the Alfonz Derosa crime scene. "Boy, this looks like it could all be part of a new edition for your book."

"Could be. But I also think it relates to Ava Montrose's murder." Greg held up a picture so Russell knew who he was talking about. "This is Pete Bamonte. Chicago loan shark and the guy behind Alfonz Derosa's murder."

"Right, he hired the hit man to do it."

"When I was researching the Derosa murder from '89, I discovered that Bemonte had a son. Bamonte got divorced. His wife remarried, and then the son took his stepfather's last name, which was Reidel."

Russell eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Reidel, as in Duncan Reidel? Ruth Montrose's boyfriend is Pete Bamonte's son?"

"I'm saying maybe we have a new suspect, and maybe Ruth Montrose's story about a buyer in Dubai was just a story."

"And the real buyer is a little closer to home. Okay, so where's our proof? How are we doing with the, uh, trace that we got from the Caddy?"

"Finn's working on it." Greg was sent to help Finn process the trace from the Caddy. "Where you headed?"

Finn was sitting in the driver's seat of the Caddy, staring off into space. "I'm not sure." She turned to Greg. "So, if you're right and Duncan Reidel is the killer, then he must have done restoration work before he killed Ava."

"What do you mean?"

Finn stood up. "Well, I got the results back from the fiber that we found on the passenger seat."

Greg opened the folder. "Cannabis sativa. Hemp."

"It's used for upholstery stuffing. And the thing I know about classic cars is they did not use hemp in the carpet or in the seat lining. Not in 1976, anyway. Also, check out the result on the chrome."

Greg flipped the page. "It's not chromic potassium sulfate. It didn't come off the girl."

"It must have flaked off the car."

"But on what part of the car?" Greg put the folder down.

"Yeah," Finn turned to face the car again, "that is what I am trying to figure out."

Greg went to the passenger side of the car. "Well, we found both pieces of trace here, near the passenger seat." He lifted the headrest. "Ah. The chrome on the headrest post is flaking."

"Someone messed with it. Maybe the killer swapped out the original headrest with a new one, reupholstered with hemp."

"There's one way to know for sure. After Alfonz and his mistress were shot, this entire seat was covered in blood." Greg got out the Luminal and sprayed the entire seat. On the chair, the blood glowed blue, but there was nothing on the headrest. He set down the spray and took off his glasses. "When is the last time someone was shot in the head in a car and didn't leave any blood on the headrest?"

As a blood spatter expert, Finn knew that was an impossible occurrence. "How about never? So Ava's killer replaced the headrest. The question is: why?"

"The hit man who went to prison for the murder of Alfonz Derosa wasn't convicted on evidence. He was convicted on the word of a jailhouse snitch."

"So you're thinking he was set up?"

"Yeah, maybe there was a different shooter, someone closer to the guy who ordered the hit. In 1989, Duncan Reidel was eighteen years old."

"So, Duncan could've been the one to pull the trigger for his father."

"And maybe there was something in that headrest that could've proven it."

Finn grinned. "Like a bullet."

Greg nodded. "Exactly."

"So, let's see if there's something on this headrest that will help us make our case today." Finn took a swab out of her pocket and swabbed the headrest for touch DNA. Too impatient to wait for Henry to run this, Finn processed the swab herself. The results cleared Duncan Reidel, but the real killer was a surprise.

* * *

Russell set a picture of the Cadillac on the table. "You know, it's interesting, what a car means to different people. You take this Cadillac. To Carlo Derosa, it means revenge. Selling it's a great way to get back at a father who cared more about his cars than about him."

Crawford nodded. "Yeah, to Aron Derosa, keeping it is a way of remembering that father. To him, the car means love."

"Right. We- we were just wondering…"

Crawford placed the picture in front of the suspect. "What did it mean to you?"

"Mr. Bixler?"

"Um…" Bixler looked down at the picture and chuckled, "nothing. I mean, I mean, not a damn thing. It was just a part of my job."

"Wrong answer, Ken."

"Yeah, we- we, we kind of figured that, to you, the car means heartbreak."

Bixler tried to look confused. "Heartbreak? I… What are you talking about?"

"You see, Ken, we- we found your DNA on the passenger side headrest."

"Well, uh, I inspected that headrest, so…"

Russell interrupted him. "No, actually, the headrest you inspected was the old headrest. The manufactured one. We're talking about the new headrest."

Crawford placed a photo of the original crime scene on the table in front of Bixler. "And that's because you replaced it. We, uh, recovered the old headrest in the dumpster behind your appraisal office, and your prints were on that."

Russell leaned his head down to match Bixler's eyeline. "We also found an expended bullet that was a direct match to a Beretta manufactured in 1980. Your Beretta."

Crawford put a picture of Bixler's Beretta on the table. "It's the same gun you fired last year when you thought an intruder was breaking into your house."

"Remember, the cops were called? The bullet and the gun were processed and then put in the system."

"And it's also the same gun that was used to murder Alfonz Derosa."

"Yeah, un- unfortunately, though…"

Crawford interrupted Russell. "The recovered bullets were too degraded the process."

Russell nodded. "Right, but in the cops' defense, they didn't realize that you fired three shots, not two. A stray round going into that headrest."

"The cops thought it was a professional hit."

"They didn't realize it was just an enraged car salesman with a shaky hand." Russell sighed. "What I don't understand is: why'd you feel like you had to kill him in the first place? You barely knew the guy."

Bixler finally spoke. "I wasn't there to kill Alfonz. I was there to kill Vera."

"Vera Scanell. Alfonz's mistress."

"My fiancée." Bixler looked at Russell and then back at the pictures. "What a beautiful wreck she was. She never cared how much pain she caused me. The humiliation. They both got what was coming to them. I didn't regret it for a second."

"Until thirty years later when you realized that you left some evidence behind."

Bixler was refusing to talk, so Russell tried to reengage him. "Ken, what about Ava? How'd she play into this?"

It worked. "I've known her for years. I was friends with her dealer. I used to help him launder money. She came to me about a week ago, telling me about her mom's plan to steal the car. They wanted help getting it out of the country."

"But with the car being sold, you were worried that the bullet in the headrest would be discovered and finally matched to your Beretta."

"I had to get it out." Bixler drummed his fingers on his hand. "I sent her away. I sent her away for an hour or so, so I could get my work done." He shook his head. "Too bad she had to come back."

He told them about how she had come back acting like she was high on something and talking about being turned on by being in the vault. How she'd noticed that he wasn't working on the engine the way he'd said he was and had assumed that he was working an angle. How she'd tried to blackmail him. He told them about the struggle, Ava trying to get away and him catching up to her at the Packard. How he'd pushed her into the chrome bath and held her down till she stopped moving. Through all that, he didn't show remorse at all. Just like the first time he'd taken a life, he didn't feel a thing.

* * *

Greg and Finn went to visit the Caddy in the garage before it left. "Just talked to Carlo Derosa. He's sending someone over to pick up the Caddy."

Finn turned to face Greg. "Well, Bixler did confess, so the car's not evidence anymore. What about Aron Derosa? Still doesn't want to sell?"

"Actually, the brothers finally compromised. They're donating the car to the Mob Museum."

"Oh, that sounds like a good place for her. Still, such a shame that she's never gonna see the road again." Finn looked over the car; regret that she'd been unable to drive it on her features.

Greg pulled the keys out of his pocket and held them up. A grin spread over Finn's face as she heard that familiar jingling sound. "One last ride?"

"I thought you'd never ask." Greg tossed her the keys and she caught them easily, slipping into the car as soon as they were securely in her grasp. This was going to be great.

* * *

**A/N: This concludes "The Last Ride." Stay tuned for the next episode!**


	34. Chapter 34

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank phnxgrl and stlouiegal for their reviews. stlouiegal: This next case is not original material. I want to make sure that all my original material ideas allow for adapting next season's episodes (if there is a next season), so I'm waiting to find out if there is one. Things for the show still seem unclear and we may not find out until May if it is renewed or not. If not, I'll start working on original stuff, but that will mean longer waits between posting just so I can fit writing into my schedule to avoid putting out low quality work. Stay with me for a bit longer.**

**This chapter starts the first half of the season finale episodes. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 34

David stopped when he saw the body in the bathroom stall. "Nobody should have to die like this."

Nick was in the stall taking pictures. "Lot of blood drops on the floor over here, so I don't think he puked himself to death." He moved his head a little to look at the wound on his neck. "Pretty big gash." He turned to leave the stall. "Yeah, i- it looks like somebody cut his throat and just left him to bleed out in the toilet there."

David moved into the stall and started his exam. "The body is still warm. The rigor hasn't even started. He's been dead less than an hour."

"Hang on a second."

David had been about to pull the victim back, but he looked up at Nick for clarification. Nick bent over and leaned in to take a picture of the back of the victim's hooded vest. There was something there that didn't quite fit. Nick grabbed the tweezers from his vest.

David had his hands in the air, waiting for Nick to give the all clear. "You see something?"

"Looks like some type of bug carcass." Nick moved the hood. "Could have fallen off the killer. I'll scoop it up, get it back to the lab." He tweezed the carcass into an envelope. "Yeah, now."

David started checking the victim's pockets. "There's no wallet." He noticed the back pocket. "But we got… a cell phone. Maybe we could get an ID." He turned it on. "Locked."

"Use his thumb."

David nodded and placed the victim's thumb on the sensor. The phone unlocked. "Got to love technology." He handed the phone to Nick and stood.

Nick looked at the welcome screen. "According to the phone's ID, the victim's name is Pete Corday. His camera app was open. Some of these pictures were time-stamped right before he was murdered."

"Maybe he got a shot of the killer."

Nick shook his head. "It's him and a girl." He turned the phone around.

"Looks like he's having a pretty good time."

"Mm. Right up until someone ended it."

* * *

Sara rolled into the bathroom soon after the body had been removed and "stood" to process the sinks. "Talked to the janitor who found the body. He said he got suspicious when he saw the 'Closed for Cleaning' sign on the restroom door." She put a few drops of reagent on the swab and it turned purple.

Nick was taking a closer look at the stall. "Killer was trying to buy more time till the body was found."

"Got blood in the sink. He must've cleaned up in here."

"So the victim's throat was slashed over the toilet to catch the blood." Nick looked a little puzzled. "Then the knife was washed off in the sink, put the sign on the door."

Sara capped the swab. "Smart."

"You know, he was with this girl right before he was murdered." Nick grabbed the victim's phone from his kit. "I figure either she was involved, or at the very least she's a witness."

Sara rotated the handles backward and sat before heading toward Nick to take a look at the phone. "Any idea who she is?"

Nick shook his head. "No, Finley's pulling surveillance now. Seeing if we can track her movements. I mean, maybe somebody knows her."

Sara noticed a bag in the corner of the photo. "Well, that's a Dempsey's bag. Judging by the size, I would say jewelry or makeup. We could show her photo to the store clerks. If she paid with a credit card, we might be able to get a name."

* * *

Morgan ran down the hall to catch Russell before he got too far away. "Russell!"

Russell turned. "Yeah?"

"Got a lead on our mystery girl." Morgan fell into step with him. "The credit card that she used earlier today belongs to a guy named John Nolan."

"Nolan. Wh- Why do I know that name?"

"He's the director of the crime lab in San Diego." They came to a stop.

"Right. She used his credit card here in Vegas? Did he report it stolen?"

Morgan shook her head. "Not yet, but according to Nolan's assistant, he's here in town for a family wedding. Nick's talking to him now; says he knows him. Nolan offered him a job a few years ago."

* * *

Nick opened the door to the evidence room and Nolan followed him inside. "Hey, John…" Nick cleared his throat, "sorry to drag you down here."

"I thought you were investigating the murder of a young man."

"We are, and a person of interest has been using your credit card." Nick pulled up the photo of their mystery girl. "Do you recognize that girl?"

Nolan took the tablet Nick offered him and took a look. "Oh, my God. It's Cara."

"Cara?"

Nolan was in shock. "She's my thirteen year old daughter."

"Do you, uh… do you know the victim," Nick pointed to the man in the photo, "Pete Corday?"

Nolan looked at Nick. "No, I've never seen him before. Who is he?"

"Twenty-three year old from Phoenix. He's got a couple of misdemeanors for drug possession."

Nolan shook his head. "Why would she be hanging out with a guy like that? Where is she, Nick? Can I see her?"

Nick stood up straight and sighed. This wasn't going to be an easy conversation. "We don't know where she is."

"What?"

"When's the last time you saw her?"

Nolan looked away, very flustered and worried. "Uh… at ten o'clock this morning. She wanted to go to the mall with Lexi."

"Lexi?"

"Yeah, my oldest daughter. She's seventeen. They don't get to see each other very often."

"Why is that?"

Nolan took a deep breath. "Well, after the divorce, Lexi wanted to live with her mother here in Vegas. I was dead set against it." Nolan was getting emotional, the shock of learning his baby girl was potentially in trouble terrifying him. "Tori, my ex. She'd rather be a friend than a parent."

"Have you talked to either one of them since this morning?"

"No, I was at a lunch with out-of-town guests. They didn't show up. I texted them… they never answered."

"Okay, what about the ex-wife? Or family members?"

Nolan shook his head. "No one's heard from them."

"Give me their phone numbers. We'll ping their cells, we'll track them down."

Nolan reached into his jacket pocket to get his phone. "Of course."

"And I need a current picture of Lexi."

Nolan pulled up a picture. He looked at it for a moment and chuckled at the memory it pulled up before handing the phone to Nick, emotion choking up his voice. "It's a picture that was taken at the rehearsal dinner yesterday."

Nick looked at the photo and nodded, looking Nolan in the eyes. "I'm gonna find your girls."

"If anyone can, it's you."

* * *

Hodges found Russell heading back to his office. "Hey, boss."

Russell didn't turn around. "Yeah? What do you got for me, David?"

Hodges followed Russell into his office and opened up the folder in his hands, pulling out a picture. "Hadrurus Arizonensis. Otherwise known as the giant desert hairy scorpion." He handed Russell the page. "Nick found a piece of the molted exoskeleton next to Pete Corday's body in the restroom."

"You were able to trace it?"

"Unfortunately no. The giant desert hairy scorpion is quite common in Nevada. You know, last spring my cousin Karen went to go put on her running shoes for her daily jog. Didn't know one was hiding in there; it stung her big toe."

Russell's eyebrows raised in concern. "Was she okay?"

"Oh, yeah. But the venom is no more harmful than a bee sting."

"Ah." Doc walked in and Russell turned to him. "Hey, Doc."

"Hey. I just finished Pete Corday's autopsy. He died from exsanguination due to massive sharp-force trauma."

"Can you tell us anything about our killer from the wound?"

Doc looked down and recited the information. "Depth and angle indicate a right-handed individual with considerable strength, in all likelihood male."

Hodges had turned to Doc. "That rules out the Nolan sisters." He turned to look at Russell.

"Okay. So what do we know? Cara Nolan was with Pete Corday right before he was killed. And now both she and her sister are missing."

"You think Corday's killer has the girls?"

Russell nodded a yes to Doc's question and then elaborated. "If they saw his face, maybe he took them to keep them quiet. And if that's the case, we need to find them, fast."

* * *

**Meanwhile...**

Sara rolled into the A/V room to talk to Finn. "Hey."

"Hey."

"Were you able to pull up the footage from outside the bathroom?"

"Ah, that camera was not working."

Sara stood up. "Figures."

"Yeah." Finn pulled up some footage. "Now, I retraced the girls' steps. We know that they bought makeup at Dempsey's at 12:53. 'Cause that camera was working. And look what I found."

Sara turned to the screen. "Oh, that's our victim, Pete Corday. Who's the other guy?" The other guy was kissing Lexi, suggesting that the two were very familiar with each other. Corday was standing to the side, staring at Cara.

"Obviously, a close personal friend of Lexi's. I'm putting him through facial recognition right now." Finn clicked the button to run the program. After a few seconds, it kicked out a name and rap sheet.

Sara read off the information. "He has a rap sheet. Axel Vargas, age twenty-five."

"Drug possession, burglary… pandering?" That last one caught Finn off guard.

Sara was surprised too. "He's a pimp?"

Finn noticed another charge. "No, worse. Look at that. Federal charge. Tried to take an underage girl into Mexico."

"That sounds like sex trafficking."

Finn turned to Sara. "Maybe that's what he's got planned for Lexi and Cara."

Sara looked back at Vargas' picture. "What's that tattoo on his neck?"

"Mm. Let me zoom in." Finn pulled up the photo with the neck tattoo and zoomed in on it.

"A scorpion."

* * *

**A/N: Stay tuned!**


	35. Chapter 35

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank stlouiegal and phnxgrl for their reviews. stlouiegal: Thank you. I didn't like her either. phnxgrl: Thank you and we'll see. This chapter starts in the next scene in the episode. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 35

Axel Vargas was located and brought in for questioning as soon as his picture had been put on the wire. Sara sat across from him, sickened at what he might have done to the two girls. "Nice tattoo on your neck. You like scorpions?"

Vargas shrugged. "They're cool."

"Keep any as pets?"

"No. Why?"

"We found a piece of a scorpion exoskeleton on the body of a murder victim. Your buddy, actually." Sara leaned forward and sifted through the photos she had in her hands. "Pete Corday." She set the photos of Corday on the table. "We know you were with him, Lexi and Cara Nolan at the mall this afternoon. Now he's dead and they're missing."

Vargas looked up at Sara in surprise. "It's got nothing to do with me."

"You have a history of forcing young girls into prostitution. You'd get top dollar for Lexi and Cara, so what happened? Did Pete decide he wanted to keep the girls for himself? Or maybe he decided he wanted a cut."

"I didn't kill Pete."

Sara wasn't moved. "Where are the girls?"

"I'm telling you, I don't know. I met Lexi a week ago at a bar. She wanted me to meet her at the mall today, so I went. We hooked up in a dressing room, and I split."

"Where'd you go?"

"Work. I'm a bartender at McCarthy's. Cops picked me up in the middle of a shift, too, and I missed a whole day's pay."

"I'm gonna need to talk to your boss and verify when you showed up."

* * *

Russell had Ecklie walk with him as he updated the Sheriff on the case. "Nick said Nolan's putting on a brave face, but, obviously, he's upset."

Ecklie knew the feeling. "Well, we've both been there. Father's worst nightmare."

"Our girls made it. Hopefully, his will, too."

"Listen, I want the department to do everything in its power… resources, personnel, I don't care, whatever it takes to bring those girls back and close this case." Ecklie stopped by the front desk.

Russell turned to face him. "Absolutely."

Ecklie had one more request. "Oh, and do me a favor. John's a good guy. As a professional courtesy, let's give him access, keep him up to date."

Russell nodded. "Yeah, I'll make sure everybody knows."

"Thanks."

* * *

With the numbers Nick got from Nolan, Morgan was able to find where the girls' phones were located. Greg joined her and they checked out the area where the GPS from the phones led them. Unfortunately, only the phones were there. One phone was too damaged to immediately get anything from it, and the other's screen was cracked, but there was a video on it that Lexi had shot before the phones were tossed.

Nick was trying to avoid Nolan. Despite Russell's orders to keep Nolan in the loop, he wanted to fully analyze the video his friends had found before he had to talk to the missing girls' father because, right now, there wasn't much to say, and what there was to say would not fall on understanding ears. He wanted to get some good news to go with the bad.

Which means he probably should have avoided walking by the break room. "Nick! Nick! Just heard the suspect was released. What the hell's going on?"

Nick had really been wanting to avoid this. "Yeah, his alibi checked out."

"But he was with Lexi and Cara right before they disappeared. He has to be on the top of the suspect list."

"Yeah, I just saw the video that Lexi shot in the abductor's vehicle. It's not Axel Vargas behind the wheel."

Nolan paused, knowing Nick was right to let Vargas go, but unsure what that meant for his girls. "Do- do you have any idea who the guy was?"

Well, now that Nolan knew, there was no point keeping him out now. "Actually, I was hoping you could help us out there, John. You've been running that San Diego office for a long time now. You must have made some enemies along the way? Can you think of anyone who… who might want to snatch up your girls to hurt you in some way?"

Nolan shook his head as he thought. "God, I don't know. I…"

"A family member of someone you recently put away. Or someone who was recently released from prison? Something like that?"

"We- we just brought down a biker gang that killed a city supervisor."

Nick nodded. That looked promising. "That's good. Have your lab send that file over right away and we'll look into that."

"In the meantime, I want to take a look at that video." Nick sighed and Nolan pressed on. "If this is about me, maybe I'll recognize the guy."

Nick didn't want to, but Nolan request made sense. If the kidnapping was related to payback on Nolan, then San Diego's lab director was the only person who might recognize the suspect. Nick nodded and led Nolan to the A/V room where Morgan had the video on the screen. She pushed play and the video started from the beginning.

Lexi was crying in the backseat. "_Where are you taking us?_" The kidnapper was driving and ignoring her pleas. "_Please, just let us go_."

"_Shut up_." The crying had irritated him enough to finally respond.

Lexi tried another approach. "_My sister's only thirteen. She'd just a kid. You don't need both of us_…"

The car screeched to a halt as the kidnapper realized she was using her phone to take a video. "_You stupid bitch!_"

"_Just please, let her go!_"

The abductor threw the car in park and grabbed his knife, holding it to Cara's throat. "_Give me the phone, or I will slit her throat_."

Cara looked terrified and she was crying too. "_Lexi!_"

Lexi sounded panicked. "_No!_"

Nolan took a few deep breaths after the video stopped. Nick broke the silence. "I'm sorry you had to see that, John. Do you recognize him?"

Nolan shook his head. "No." His head shook a few more times, his face screwed up in fear and grief. "What if they're dead already?" Nick looked at Morgan, neither of them knowing what to say. "I mean, he had a knife. He's already killed one person today, right?"

Nick shook his head. "You shouldn't even be thinking like that. Not when there's a chance they're still alive. We'll work it till we find 'em."

"I- it looks like Lexi was trying to send this clip to somebody. She entered this phone number," Morgan pulled up the number, "but it didn't go through."

"Well, it's a silent call for help. Whose number is that?"

Nolan recognized it. "It's mine. She was trying to send it to me."

The fact that her father's number wasn't in Lexi's phone seemed strange to Morgan. "You weren't in her contact list?"

Nolan apparently hadn't known that. "I guess not. Lexi and I haven't had much of a relationship since she moved here to live with her mother."

"Well, you were the first person she thought of to reach out to when she was in trouble." At Nick's words, Nolan turned to look at him. "That's got to mean something."

* * *

Russell sat on the front edge of his desk. "Okay, where are we? Did you find out anything about the motorcycle gang that Nolan helped take down?"

Finn nodded. "Yeah. Most of them are in prison. San Diego PD verified the whereabouts of the others."

Russell shook his head. So much for potential suspects. "Is there anyone else who might have had a grudge against Nolan?"

"Well, Nolan's lab just cracked a series of Mexican cartel murders along the border, but he hasn't received any threats lately. You know, I think if somebody wanted to get back at him, why would they come all the way here to Vegas?"

Russell turned that over in his head for a bit. Finn had a point. "Right. All right, all right, look, maybe this has absolutely nothing to do with him. The guy's got two beautiful daughters, right? They're young, they're attractive, they're in the mall. The mall is like a hunting ground for sexual predators. Maybe this was a… a crime of opportunity."

"Well, I looked at all the surveillance video from the mall. Cara and Lexi left through the west doors, but they were alone."

"Okay, but that doesn't mean that the kidnapper wasn't already following them, right? I mean, he could have been laying in wait outside, and then forced them into the car."

Greg walked in. "Hey. I was looking through Lexi's text messages, and I found something… interesting. Seems she has an admirer who likes to send her pictures of his… genitals." He offered the folder to Russell.

Russell shook his head. "I'll take your word for it." Finn shot him an amused look, which he ignored.

"Well, she told the guy to stop, the images kept coming. When she threatened to share the pics with the cops, the perv wrote back, 'You bitch, you're just like your mother.'"

Finn turned from Greg to Russell. "He knows Tori Nolan."

Russell leaned forward. "Did you run the number?"

"Yeah. Came back to a used car salesman named Dennis Hayes."

Russell clapped his hands on his thighs and stood. "Let's bring him in."

"Police are trying to track him down. In the meantime, Sara's gonna talk with Tori Nolan."

* * *

Sara hit the play button on the laptop to show Tori Nolan the video Lexi had shot. "_Please, let her go!_"

"_You stupid bitch! Give me the phone, or I will slit her throat_."

"_Lexi!_"

"_No!_"

Sara ended the video. "Is that Dennis Hayes?"

Tori spread her hands, palms up, and shrugged. "I'm not sure. I- I've only met him a couple of times."

"How do you know him?"

"He was a friend of my ex-boyfriend. Oh, my God. Do you think he did this? Do you think he took my girls?"

Sara leaned forward. "That's what we're trying to figure out. Mrs. Nolan, we found some pretty graphic photos and texts that Dennis sent to Lexi. What was the nature of their relationship?"

"She barely knew him. He came to our house for a party once." Tori's story was lacking. Sara felt there was more to it than that, so she waited. Tori eventually looked away and started talking. "Lexi wasn't feeling well, and she went up to bed. I decided to go check on her about half an hour later, and she was passed out on the bed. And Dennis was on top of her... trying to take her clothes off."

Sara sat back in her chair. "What did you do?"

"Well, I pulled him off of her, and I told him to get the hell out of my house."

"You called the police."

Tori shook her head, looking away again. "No, I didn't."

"Why not?"

"Because we had been drinking. And taking E." Tori looked down and Sara glanced at the window, not sure what to say to that. "Lexi wanted to try it, and… I let her." Tori chuckled. "I didn't want the cops to find out. I didn't want them to take her away from me."

"You didn't report Dennis Hayes, and now, he may have abducted both of your daughters. Do you have any idea where he could have taken them?"

Tori shook her head. "I wish I did." Sara wrapped up the interview with a few more questions that provided no more helpful information and then followed Tori Nolan out of the interrogation room to escort her out.

Nolan came out of the other room, livid at what he'd just heard. "What the hell kind of mother are you?"

Sara held up a hand to try and prevent an argument. "Mr. Nolan…"

"You brought that monster into our daughter's life! And now he's taken her and Cara!"

Tori Nolan wasn't about to let him cow her. "I didn't know."

"I should never have let you have custody of Lexi."

Tori turned around. "She didn't want to live with you."

Sara got between them. "Hey! Your daughters are missing, and this is not gonna help us find them. Let's just focus on bringing Lexi and Cara home. Please." Nolan deflated a little and Sara knew the worst of the fight was behind them, at least for now. He ran his hand over his face. Sara nodded, glad that the shouting match had stopped. "All right."

* * *

**A/N: I didn't like Tori Nolan watching the episode. While writing that part out, I remembered a news story from several years ago where a parent had let their kids try alcohol and certain drugs at home. They're rational for that was that the kids would most likely try it anyway, so if they were going to try it anyway, they should be in a safe environment (the family home) instead of at a party or something. I'm guessing parents like that were the inspiration for Tori Nolan. Anyone else heard of stories like that?**


	36. Chapter 36

**Author's Note: I would like to thank phnxgrl for her review. We are starting this chapter with the next scene from the episode. I had to switch character placement in one scene to accommodate Sara's wheelchair. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 36

Morgan was analyzing the phone video some more when Nick walked in. "We still haven't found Hayes. Please, tell me you got something."

She looked up at him, excited. "As a matter of fact, I do. I've been analyzing the video that Lexi took, and from the dashboard, I can tell that the vehicle they were abducted in was a 1986 Chevrolet Suburban. Does Dennis Hayes drive one of those?"

"No, but I mean, he's a used car salesman. He has access to all kinds of vehicles." His phone chimed. "All right, I'll call the dealership, and, uh, I'll see if they have an '86 Suburban in inventory." Nick turned on his phone's screen and checked the text. What he read made his face fall in disappointment. They may have found Lexi, but not the way they had hoped.

Morgan noticed Nick's change in attitude. "What is it?"

Nick clenched his phone tightly in his hand and Morgan knew without him saying a word that the message hadn't been good. He turned and left the room, hurrying down the hall. Nick drove to the scene with dread in his chest. He had promised Nolan that they would find his girls, but this wasn't what he had meant. Part of him hoped that this girl was just a close match and not actually Lexi.

He parked the SUV behind the tape and walked under it as a uni held it up. "Where is she?"

Mitch had been waiting for him. "In the dumpster. One of the construction guys accidentally threw out some lighting fixtures, so the foreman came back to retrieve 'em, found the body."

Nick clicked on his flashlight and approached the dumpster warily. The body was under a drop cloth in the construction dumpster. He entered the dumpster and knelt down next to it, almost afraid to move the cover. But he couldn't just sit there. He reached out and drew the cloth off of her in one smooth motion. Nick shined the light on her face and his fear was confirmed. It was Lexi.

Mitch broke the silence. "She one of the girls?"

Nick had his eyes closed, not wanting to believe it yet, but eventually he nodded and opened his eyes again. "Yeah, that's Lexi, the older sister."

"Not the way we were hoping to find her."

"No, it's not." Nick looked at her face again. "Ecchymosis. Means she suffered blunt force trauma to the head." He panned his light to her feet. "Fresh cuts on the bottoms of her feet. Looks like she tried to run away. Any sign of Cara?"

"She's not in here."

Nick nodded; that might be good news. "Then there's a chance she might still be alive."

* * *

Nick had left the crime scene to ride with the body to the morgue, so Greg was taking pictures in the dumpster. He squatted and moved a drop cloth to find a necklace on the cushions Lexi's body had been on. He photographed the "L" pendant and then bagged it for Henry to take a look. He was just stepping out of the dumpster when Sara rolled over.

"Hey, I thought Nick was working this one."

"He went to the morgue with the body." Greg stopped in front of her. "He wanted to be the one to process Lexi. Uh, I found a necklace. There's not much blood in the dumpster. She must have been killed somewhere else and dumped here."

"They said they searched the house under renovation. There was no sign of Cara. No evidence that the girls were ever held there."

Greg looked around. "What about the other houses in the neighborhood?"

"Unis are still canvassing. One neighbor did report hearing a metallic squeaking sound 10:30."

Greg turned his head to look at the dumpster. "Hinges on the doors of the dumpster, maybe?"

Sara nodded. "By the time she looked out the window, all she could see were taillights speeding away. Some type of SUV. But, if the killer opened these doors," Sara shined her flashlight on the door to the dumpster, "he would've needed to touch the latch. I'll dust for prints."

* * *

Nick walked into the morgue to process Lexi's body to find Nolan standing there looking at his daughter. They talked about the kind of girl Lexi had been growing up. Nolan was blaming himself for her death and Nick did everything he could to convince him otherwise. After Nolan left, he did the preliminary exam so Doc could get to work on the autopsy. Doc's cause of death was blunt force trauma cause by her head getting smashed against a hard, flat surface. He also sent tissue samples up to Henry for analysis.

Sara found Nick in the break room getting coffee. She poured herself a mug and was about to leave, but she couldn't. Not without checking on him first. "How's Nolan?"

Nick turned around. "He's holding it together as best he can. This is a guy who sees dead bodies in autopsy every day, but when it's your own kid laying there…"

Sara shook her head. "Oof. I can't even imagine."

Nick shook his head. He couldn't either. "John's a good guy. He doesn't deserve this."

Sara took a sip of her coffee. "Didn't he send you an autographed Chargers jersey a few years ago?"

Nick smiled. "Yeah, Dan Fouts. One of the best passing quarterbacks in the NFL. It was his attempt to lure me to that San Diego office."

"You ever regret that? Not taking the job out there?"

Nick considered her question. "No. I mean, it wasn't a promotion or anything like that."

"Yeah, but the money had to be better than here."

"Uh, not really." He sighed. "I mean, San Diego's an expensive town to live in. Besides, this is my home. I got all my friends here. This is where my family is." He gestured to her with his mug. Sara returned the gesture. "And look, the Chargers got a good football team, but they're no Dallas Cowboys. Those are my boys."

Sara pursed her lips to hide her smile. "Go Cowboys."

* * *

Henry went into Russell's office. "Hey, Russell."

"Mm."

"Doc confirmed that the sting on Lexi Nolan's shoulder was from a scorpion."

Russell looked up. "Same type as the exoskeleton that Nick found?"

"No. This wasn't a giant hairy scorpion." Henry opened the folder in his hands. "The histopath report identified chlorotoxin and maurotoxin, consistent with a Deathstalker Scorpion." He placed the results page in front of Russell.

Russell picked it up. "They common to Nevada?"

Henry shook his head. "Indigenous to Israel."

"Well, then, how is she stung by one of these?"

Henry shook his head. "It had to be intentional. Some people keep them as pets, which is crazy. Deathstalkers are highly aggressive. When they sting their victims, the venom rushes into the bloodstream, causing increased heartbeat, blood pressure, and, if enough venom is released, convulsions and death."

"Well, now, Doc said that Lexi Nolan died from blunt force trauma, right?"

"Yes, but I think the scorpion sting may have contributed to her death. See," Henry put another page in front of the supervisor, "Lexi had cuts on the bottom of her feet. If she tried to run, with that venom in her system, she wouldn't have gotten very far."

Russell could see what Henry was saying. "Allowing her killer to catch up to her. So do we know if Dennis Hayes has a thing for scorpions?"

"He's not our guy. Police tracked him down to a motel in Nebraska. He's been there three days."

"So we know that whoever killed Lexi Nolan had access to a Deathstalker Scorpion. And if they're not native to Nevada, then where'd the guy get one?"

* * *

Greg found Sara in the print lab "standing" with a computer in front of her. "Hey, turns out there are seven places in Nevada that sell Deathstalker Scorpions." He handed her the report.

"If you ask me, that's seven places too many."

"I guess some people get a kick out of owning something that can kill you. Deathstalkers only live two to six years, so I got a list of everyone who purchased one from 2008 to now." Greg handed Sara a flashdrive.

She plugged it in and pulled up the list. "Okay, so if we cross-reference this with everyone who drives a 1986 Chevrolet Suburban, we might get our guy."

"Great minds think alike."

Sara pulled up the vehicles driven by every name on the Deathstalker Scorpion owners list and started to scroll down it. "Here's one. Kieran Clark. 528 Cactus Ridge Lane."

Greg grabbed Morgan and they headed out to Clark's address with several squad cars. The road up to the barn was dirt and they kicked up a lot of dust racing down the road. Morgan jumped out of the car as soon as it stopped, but hung back with Greg while the uni's stacked up on the door to clear the inside. One cop cut the padlock and pulled open the door while the rest poured inside.

"LVPD!"

"Kieran Clark, LVPD!"

"Clear inside."

Morgan's face fell as they heard that. If it was clear inside, then Cara wasn't there. Mitch walked out, cradling his shotgun. "All clear. Nobody's here."

Morgan sighed. "That means no Cara." She pulled out her flashlight and clicked it on, following Greg into the barn. "This is Clark's address, but it doesn't look like he lives here."

"Terrariums." Greg stopped to take a look. "A lot of them."

Morgan walked forward to take a better look. The terrarium in front of her housed a tarantula. She leaned down to take a closer look and it attacked the glass, trying to get to her. She jumped back. "Oh! Oh, God." She looked back at Greg, breathing hard, and found him smiling at her.

Greg turned his attention back to the terrariums. "Guess he's not just into scorpions." The terrariums housed reptiles and arachnids of many kinds. Greg got to the end of the row and turned to find a desk space with a cork board plastered with pictures of Cara. "Hey, Morgan." Morgan turned from the spider and came over to Greg. "Check this out. Stalker photos."

"Cara Nolan was only in town for the past few days. What, has he been stalking her the whole time?"

Greg bent down to find the light switch and flipped the lights over the desk on to get a better look. "Wait a minute. That's somebody else. That's not Cara Nolan."

"Who is it, then? Another victim?"

"I don't know. But whoever she is… she's a dead ringer for Cara."

* * *

**A/N: Sara also got one of Morgan's scenes to give her more screen time. Stay tuned!**


	37. Chapter 37

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank stlouiegal and phnxgrl for their reviews. stlouiegal: Clark is a sick man. This chapter starts in the next scene in the episode. Also, ****I gave Finn's scene to Sara so she would have a little more screen time. **** Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 37

Nick found Nolan in the break room. He was hunched over a coffee mug, displaying all the grief and helplessness of a father who had lost one child and feels there is nothing they can do for their other child. Nick wanted to help Nolan not feel so depressed, but the only way he could really do that was to bring Cara back. At least they had some good leads. He opened the door and walked in. He took a seat and looked at Nolan, trying to gauge where the man's head was.

Nolan spoke first. "I already heard. You didn't find Cara."

"No. Not yet. But we know who took her and we know why. A guy named Kieran Clark. There was a- a shrine in that barn. It seems as though the suspect has an obsession with a young woman. We haven't identified her yet, but she looks just like Cara."

"He took my two girls because Cara reminded him of someone?"

Nick nodded. "That's what it looks like, yeah. But… only a matter of time…"

"Before we get Cara back. Is that what you're gonna try and sell me?" Nolan was getting angry.

Nick shook his head. "John, I'm not trying to sell you on- on anything here, but I'm sure as hell not ready to quit. We're gonna find her."

"No doubt we will." Nolan stopped talking and Nick nodded, glad Nolan was thinking positively. Turns out he wasn't. "Just like we found…" Nolan's voice cracked, "Lexi."

"I'm sorry about Lexi. But hey, you can't just fold and throw in now. Come on."

Nolan was angry again. "I'm no tourist, Nick. I've run a crime lab for seventeen years. Cara's been missing for twenty-four hours, and that lunatic already killed Lexi." His eyes were filling with tears. "You and I both know how this thing's probably gonna end."

Nick stared Nolan down. "I'm not about to quit. And you're not, either." Nolan sighed. "You hear me? Hey, look at me." Nolan slowly raised his eyes again and Nick held them with his own, tapping on the table to emphasize his point. "I will find her."

* * *

Russell met with Sara and Greg in the layout room to find out what they had. "Okay, what do we know about Kieran Clark?"

Greg started the report. "He's known as the Bug Guy. He goes around to schools and kids' birthday parties, educating them about insects and reptiles."

Sara shook her head. "It's terrifying that he works around children."

Russell nodded and grabbed a picture from the table. "And the young woman in these photos, the one he's obviously obsessed with?"

Sara glanced at the pages in her hands. "According to the police report, her name is Jennifer DeMarcus. She used to work at a pet shop in Henderson. That's where they met. She had one date with Clark before she realized he was a head case, and then she told him that she wasn't interested."

"Let me guess. He wouldn't take no for an answer."

Sara nodded. "He kept coming around the pet shop, and then he started parking his car in front of Jennifer's apartment at night. She called the police on him several times."

"Did she get a restraining order?"

Greg jumped in. "Left town. Moved back to Georgia. Put as much distance between her and Clark as she could."

Russell looked back down at the layout table. "Clearly, he's still obsessed with her. So, what do you think? Kieran goes to the mall, sees Cara looking very much like Jennifer, and he decided to grab her."

Sara interrupted Russell's theory to add a few details. "Except Cara was with Pete Corday, so Clark had to get rid of him first."

Greg continued the story. "And by the time he was done with Pete, Cara was with Lexi, so he had to take them both."

"Right."

Hodges walked in. "The stone particles that Nick found in Lexi Nolan's head wound were coated. I identified a mixture of ethanol, alkylalkoxysilane, and isopropyl acetate."

Russell recognized one of the things Hodges said. "Oxysilane? That sounds like a sealant of some kind."

"Actually, it's an impregnating sealant, used to protect concrete from water and staining, uh, primarily walkways, driveways."

Sara turned to Hodges. "There was no evidence of sealant in the dumpster where Lexi's body was found, which means it had to come from where she was actually murdered."

Greg leaned on the table. "Lexi tried to escape. She was still feeling distress from the scorpion sting. Maybe she was near a driveway when Kieran Clark caught up to her and smashed her head into it."

"The sealant in Lexi's wound wasn't entirely cured," Hodges shook his head as he finished his report, "meaning that it was probably applied within the last couple of days."

"Okay. All right." Russell straightened up. "Let's do a search within a five-mile radius of where Lexi's body was found. We're looking for somebody who recently had their concrete driveway sealed."

* * *

Nick walked into the A/V room to find out what Sara had. "Hey."

"Hey."

"I heard you got something?"

"Yeah. Lexi's body was found right here." Sara had pulled up a map and highlighted the place where the construction dumpster was located. "Two miles away, on Harvard Drive," Sara highlighted the other house, "this house had their driveway sealed on Wednesday. Now, we know that when Lexi ran she didn't get very far, so Clark's gotta be holding Cara somewhere nearby."

Nick tore his eyes from the map. "I should get out there."

"Wait for backup."

Nick nodded. "I will."

Sara shook her head and muttered to herself as he took off. "No, you won't."

* * *

Nick drove out to Harvard Drive to check out the driveway the canvass had uncovered. He parked the SUV across the street and got out, looking at the driveway. It had a homemade "keep out" sign across it. He looked around and spotted the car Kieran Clark drove was parked around the corner from the keep out sign. It was in front of a yellow house with a porch. From the outside, it looked like a normal suburban home.

Nick made up his mind. There was no way he'd be waiting for backup. Every moment he waited was another moment closer to the time Cara might be killed. Nick pulled his gun from its holster and checked it before hurrying to the front door. He paused by the door and listened, but it sounded like his approach had gone unnoticed. He stepped in front of the door and kicked it in.

"LVPD!"

Clark was home. "Get over here."

"Kieran Clark!"

So was Cara. "No! Let me go!"

Clark was holding Cara in front of him with a knife in the hand that was around her body. Nick pointed his gun at him. He couldn't afford to miss, so he took his time with his aim, hoping he would be able to resolve this without resorting to killing Clark. Cara was terrified. She was still wearing the clothes Lexi had bought for her, but her makeup had run a little.

"Drop the knife."

Clark wasn't about to do that. "Don't come any closer."

Nick softened his voice. "Put the knife down."

Clark adjusted his grip on the knife. "I'll slit her throat."

"Hey, me and you, we can work this out. But you don't need to hurt her."

"What I need is for you to leave."

Nick couldn't do that. "Now, we both know that's not going to happen."

"Go!" Clark screamed at Nick and Cara gasped. "I will kill her."

Nick held up his hands, his gun no longer pointed at Clark. "I know about the girl from the pet store. Jennifer. I mean, isn't that the girl you liked?" He lowered his arms, his gun at his side.

"I love her."

"Okay. All right. But she's not her." Nick gestured to Cara. "Her name is Cara Nolan. She's thirteen years old. She's never done anything to hurt you. I know… when you saw her at the mall, you thought…" Nick took a couple steps to get closer to Clark, "'That's Jennifer'. But take a closer look." Clark looked at Cara. "That's not her. She's a child, and she… she needs to go home."

Clark still held Cara close to himself. "You're wrong." He moved the knife to her throat. "She's mine."

Nick raised his gun again. "Let her go!"

Tears were running down Cara's face. She was terrified, but she couldn't do much more than gasp in fear. Clark's knife was at her throat. Any moment now, he could decide to end the girl's life. Nick wasn't going to let Nolan lose another daughter. He took careful aim.

Clark was looking at Nick. "I can't let you take her."

He moved the knife to cut Cara's throat and Nick pulled the trigger. Cara stumbled back as Clark's hold on her vanished and the knife clattered to the floor. Clark's body collapsed at the same moment, his life ended the instant Nick's bullet entered his skull. Cara looked up at Nick and he rushed forward to envelope the girl in his arms so she would know she was safe at last.

"It's okay. It's all right. I'm a friend of your dad's."

Cara was sobbing in relief. "Thank you."

Nick looked down at Clark's body. "It's gonna be all right."

* * *

Nick went straight to Cara's hospital room after he'd been cleared by I.A. Nolan was inside with Cara, who looked like she was going to be alright despite the ordeal she'd been through. Nick knocked on the door to get Nolan's attention and they nodded to acknowledge each other. Nolan excused himself from his daughter's side and went to speak to Nick.

"How's she doing?"

Nolan sighed. "Physically, she's okay. She's been through a hell of an ordeal, but… she's alive because of you. You never gave up. Thank you for bringing her back to me."

"You're welcome."

"You know, Nick… I've been thinking about the choices I made. Working weekends and evenings. Missing school plays, soccer games. Sometimes going days without seeing my girls. For years, I've been putting other people's families ahead of my own. I don't want to do that anymore."

Nick's eyebrows raised. "So, what are you saying? You're gonna hang it up?"

"Well, Cara needs me. Now more than ever."

"It would be a big loss for your crime lab."

Nolan nodded. "Not with you there."

"John, we've talked about this. I've already got a job."

Nolan looked down and sucked in a deep breath. "I'm not asking you to just join the team. I'm asking you to run it."

Nick looked away to process this. He was being asked to become the director of the crime lab in San Diego. It was a huge opportunity. No, Nolan couldn't really be serious. "You want me to take over the crime lab in San Diego?"

"I know it would be in good hands with you at the helm."

Nope, Nolan really had just said that. Nick was floored. The first time Nolan had talked to Nick about coming to San Diego, it had just been a sideways shift in geography. Now he was being offered a huge promotion. It was a lot to take in.

Nick couldn't help stammering when he responded. "Uh, I- I, uh… That's a big job."

Nolan could understand what Nick was feeling. "You don't have to answer me right now. Just promise me… you'll think about it?" Nick sighed and nodded. Nolan shook his hand. "Thank you, Nick." He turned and reentered his daughter's room.

Nick stood outside it, still a little in shock. He had no idea what he was going to do now.

* * *

**A/N: That's it for this chapter. I will take a week or two off from posting to proofread (again) the next episode before I post it. Stay tuned!**


	38. Chapter 38

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank phnxgrl for her review. Nick is awesome. If CSI was real, he would make a great lab supervisor.**

**So it is official. Season 16 will not happen. Instead there will be a two hour "Season 16 movie" send-off that will bring Gill Grissom and Catherine Willows back. Not sure what capacity they will be returning under or if Captain Brass or Nick will be back (fingers crossed they will). After I've finished posting this "episode", I'm considering going on a hiatus until after that episode airs to see if I want to adapt it or not. I may just decide to go off on my own though. Anyway, this chapter is the start of the second half of the Season 15 finale. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 38

Nick walked into Russell's office. "Hey, D.B. I hear you…" Russell looked up and Nick stopped, "whoa. How long's it been? Like, a week?"

Russell was smiling, the lower half of his face covered in a thick, white beard. "Yeah. My wife's not too crazy about it. She'd like to see me all cleaned up like you."

Nick smiled. "Yeah, well, there's something to be said for a close shave, you know."

Nick sat down and Russell sighed. "I spoke with Ecklie. He and I both heard from the lab director down in San Diego."

"Well, I didn't know he was actually gonna call you guys."

"He did more than that. He put you on the top of the list of candidates to succeed him."

Nick shook his head. "No, he shouldn't done that."

"Why not? It sounds like a good opportunity."

"You trying to kick me out of here now?"

Russell shook his head. "Last thing I want is you leaving. But I would support you making the move."

Finn had been slowly creeping across the threshold. "Sorry to interrupt. I sent the samples over to Hodges, and I'm heading out."

"All right. See you later."

Finn nodded to Russell, glanced at Nick, and then left the office. She went home and decided to check her mail before heading up to her apartment. There was a large box in her mailbox from her mother. Finn rolled her eyes and tucked her mail under her arm to go upstairs. She unlocked her door and flipped on the lights, then headed to the kitchen island to open the package.

"Mom, what did you get me this time?"

She grabbed a pair of scissors and sliced the tape on the box open. Inside was a smaller box, nestled in straw, with a twine ribbon holding the smaller box together, just like a present. Finn took that present out of the shipping box and smiled at it. Her mother liked to get her stuff, usually not things she wanted or needed, but things that she thought were cute and her daughter might like. Finn set the box down and untied the ribbon so she could take off the lid. Whatever was inside was covered in tissue paper.

Finn removed the tissue paper cover and found a statue. "Castor and Pollux. The twins." She picked up the statue and set it down on the counter, then pulled out the second item that was hidden beneath the tissue paper under the statue. It was a jar with a finger inside. Finn gasped and then set it down as her phone rang. She pulled it out of her pocket and looked at the caller ID. Unknown caller.

She hit accept and put the phone to her ear. "_Did you get my present?_" It was Winthrop.

Finn was pissed and scared, but she wasn't going to let him know that. "If you wanted my attention, you've got it."

"_Oh, I want more than your attention. Because this is just the beginning. Or should I say… the beginning of the end_."

* * *

Finn called Russell and the package with all its contents were brought to the lab. Ecklie met them in the layout room for an update on what had happened. They all gloved up and the items were set out on the table for all to see. Ecklie reached over and grabbed the jar with the finger inside to take a closer look. Russell examined the printed pictures of the scene and Finn wrapped up her story.

"That son of a bitch put my mother's name on the package, so I had to get the Philly cops to put protection on her house."

Russell set down the pictures and pulled the box the statue and finger had been in toward him. "Yeah, as soon as I got your call, I did the same with Maya and with Barbara." He picked up the box.

Ecklie set the jar down. "So what do you think it all means?"

Russell set the box down and leaned against the table. "Mythology says that when Castor was killed, Pollux went to Zeus and asked him to let him share his own immortality with his twin. To keep them together. Zeus agreed, and so they were cast into heaven. The constellation Gemini."

Finn was confused. "So cutting off his finger is part of the message that he and his brother are now one?"

"He's saying we may have taken his brother, but he's more powerful than ever."

Ecklie pulled off his gloves. "All very interesting, you guys, but here on planet Earth, I thought Winthrop had a partner while his brother was in custody. Didn't you hear another set of footsteps on the recording of Pamela Kramer's murder?"

Russell nodded. "We did."

"And you don't think it's Daniel Shaw? I mean, come on, this whole thing with the estranged daughter could still have been a setup."

Finn shook her head. "It was not a setup."

"You sure about that?"

"I am."

"Then why is Shaw's lawyer saying his client has information on Winthrop that he's willing to trade for a deal?"

Russell turned to Finn. "It's the first I'm hearing this."

Finn straightened up. "Yeah, me, too. Guess I need to go talk to Shaw."

* * *

Sara rolled down the short ramp into the garage with an open folder on her lap. "I checked with World-Send. The tracking number and the bar code were bogus. I'm guessing that Winthrop faked them." She stopped at the table, put the folder in it, and "stood up" to better see what Nick was working on. "You got something?"

"Yeah, we've seen this before." He gestured to the screen. "The strings are made of human tissue. Take a look there."

Sara turned to look at the screen. "Yeah, thinner gauge than the trajectory strings, but same idea."

"We'll have Henry confirm, see if DNA can tell us who it is."

Sara nodded. "Sounds good." She rotated the handles on her chair backward to sit again.

"Hey, let me ask you something." He set the clipboard he'd been working on down.

Sara looked up at Nick, a smirk on her face. "Is this about San Diego? Because Finn mentioned something. I…" She trailed off.

"Yeah, Nolan is stepping down as the lab director there. And, um, he seems to think I'll make a good replacement."

"Wow. You would."

"Yeah."

Sara was happy for her friend, but she could sense that he was reluctant about the whole thing for some reason. "So what's the problem?"

Nick chuckled. "It's just like I said, I have a lot of friends here, and… it's a big responsibility."

"Yeah, but there's a beach. And it's a four-and-a-half-hour drive. You'd be able to come see me all the time."

"You know, Sara, after all these years, I realize what's important to me. And it's not a promotion."

Sara nodded. "Well… you know what Grissom would say." Nick smiled and looked away. "You got to go where you can do the most good."

Nick nodded and looked back at Sara. He knew that she was right. Sure he could do a lot of good here in Vegas, but as a lab director, he could do more good in San Diego. But his friends, and in many ways family, was here in this crime lab. He had a lot to think about before he could make his decision.

* * *

Finn asked for Daniel Shaw to be brought to PD so she could talk to him. Unsurprisingly considering the deal he was asking for, his lawyer had come as well. What was surprising was the sound of unhappy voices coming from the interrogation room. Finn turned the corner and it became easier to hear what was being said.

Shaw was pacing around the table, anger at his lawyer clear on his face. "This is what you got, huh?" He threw the papers in his hand toward his lawyer. "How many times I got to tell you I am not doing this? I'm not playing the game. I don't want a deal. I want to cooperate. If you can't get that through your thick head, there's the door."

Shaw's lawyer stood. "Fine." He dropped the papers into his briefcase and closed the lid as Finn reached the doorway. Without another word, he walked out.

Finn walked in. "Need a new lawyer?"

"Yeah. Looks like I'll be representing myself from here on in."

Finn crossed her arms. "Yeah, I don't think that's the best plan."

"Why break a losing streak?"

Finn paused, slightly confused. From the conversation she'd heard earlier, it sounded like Shaw wanted to be helpful, but Ecklie was sure he was angling for a deal. "So I've heard that you have information that you'd like to trade for a deal."

"Yeah, that wasn't my idea. That was my lawyer's." Shaw took a seat and Finn felt a lot more comfortable knowing that Ecklie's information had been slightly wrong. "Besides, I'd rather talk to you."

"I'm listening."

"Look, I know your boss, the sheriff, he thinks that I'm Winthrop's partner. That's just not true."

"I know that. But given everything that happened, it's pretty hard to make that case." Finn took a seat.

"Not if you and I can find the real co-conspirator." Shaw leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "Before Winthrop… abducted my daughter, I was working on a lead. I figured his- his partner was helping him get the girls, the victims."

Finn nodded. "Through the escort service." They already suspected this.

"Exactly."

"I thought Rebecca Lowell ran Lady Aquarius."

"She did. But she had a connection here in Las Vegas. The important thing is… this same guy was getting a lot of money from Winthrop's company." Shaw was looking Finn in the eyes, almost pleading for her to believe him.

"Who is it?"

Shaw shook his head. "He's not gonna talk to you. But he will speak to me."

"Are you asking me what I think you're asking me?"

"You get me a forty-eight hour pass, you and I can nail this guy."

Finn wanted to, but wasn't so sure Ecklie would agree to it. "Sheriff already doesn't trust you."

"You do. Just a little bit."

"I'm gonna need a name." A name would go a long way to convincing the higher ups to approve that pass.

"Well, it's someone you've had a run-in with before. A certain preacher-pimp. Goes by the name of Brother Larson."

* * *

**A/N: I know it's been a few months since this episode aired, but I hope you guys still like it. Stay tuned!**


	39. Chapter 39

**Author's Note: I'd like phnxgrl and stlouiegal for their reviews. phnxgrl: I liked that they showed Nick's indecision in the episode and I'm glad that you felt I captured that emotion in the last chapter. stloiegal: Don't worry about leaving a review every chapter. Review when you feel you have something to say (I always enjoy reading new reviews though...). This chapter starts in the next scene of the episode. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 39

The pass came through and Finn was tasked with keeping an eye on Shaw. Within a couple hours of getting out, Shaw had tracked down where Brother Larson was and they went to go see him. He was at work as a pimp tonight. A young woman was hurrying toward him, so Shaw leaned on the hood of Larson's car and decided to wait.

The young woman had gotten within earshot of Larson. "I can't go back up there. I can't even look at that man."

Larson raised his hand sternly. "Calm down. Brother Larson is here, and Brother Larson is listening. Now, you tell me, did he hurt you?"

The girl had calmed down a bit. "No. He didn't touch me." She took a breath and started softly yelling again. "And that's just it, I don't want him to touch me."

"All right, then let's talk about that." Larson stroked her hair. "You don't want him to touch you how?"

"I came to you. I came to your church because I wanted to get out of the game. I don't want to do this anymore."

"I hear you, baby. I feel you. But here's the thing." He put his arm around her. "Here's the Word. Our Creator has bestowed upon us gifts. You…" he took her hands in his and raised them up to display her body to them, "have a gift. The only shame there is in life is squandering our gifts. You feel me?"

The girl slowly nodded. "I guess."

"Here's what we're gonna do. You're gonna go home, get some sleep." Larson opened the door to the waiting SUV and the girl moved to climb inside. "You're gonna forget about tonight. I will see you in the morning. I'll bring you some breakfast. One more thing." She stopped and faced him again. "Did that man give you an envelope?" The girl reached into her purse and handed it to him. "Bless you, baby doll." The engine started and Larson pointed to the driver. "Get out of here."

Larson watched the car drive off and Shaw called over to him. "Damn, you're good, Larson."

"And you're taking liberties with my car." Larson turned around. "Been a while, Daniel. I've been reading the papers. You've been in the lion's den. Surprised to see you."

"Police think I'm Winthrop's partner. They think I'm a killer. But you know me. You know that's not true."

"And how would I know that?"

"Because I know about the money. I used to help you and your business in the past. Now it's your turn to help me. Unless you want me to give this information to the police."

Larson had a laugh on his face. "I always liked you, Daniel. Always trusted you. Until now. Tell me something. Do they shave you down there before they tape that little wire onto you?"

"I'm not wearing a wire."

"Then I'm guessing…" Larson sat against his car next to Shaw, "we're not alone."

Since Larson seemed to know Shaw wasn't unaccompanied, she figured there was no point in hiding now. "You guessed right."

"CSI Finlay, as I recall. Was all this really necessary? I've always been a friend of the police. I've helped you before. All you had to do is ask."

"All right, then I'll ask." Finn decided not to beat around the bush. "Are you Winthrop's partner in all of these murders?"

Larson turned to Shaw. "Direct. I like that." He turned back to Finn. "The answer's no."

"The cops are onto the money trail. They know you provided the girls."

Finn offered a tentative deal. "Help us find Winthrop, and maybe you won't get the death penalty."

"Being misjudged has been my constant cross to bear." Larson turned to Shaw, confidence dripping from his voice. "Yes, I provided escorts. It's what I do. And I received a finder's fee. Also what I do. What I don't do is harm women. Or anyone. All right?"

Finn pulled her handcuffs from her back pocket. "All right. I guess I'll just have to arrest you."

That got Larson's attention. "Whoa, ho- hold on a minute. I said I was gonna help, I'll help. The money I got, it didn't come from the son. It came from the father. Collin Winthrop. In fact, when the first girls went missing, I suspected him, but, uh, given events, I see now how this could be a family business."

Shaw wasn't buying it. "You're saying the father's the partner?"

"That'd be my suspicion. Sometimes the apple doesn't fall from the tree at all."

Finn shook out her hair. "So, say we believe you. Where can we find Paul Winthrop's father?"

"I stopped dealing with Collin a long time ago. I do still receive contributions… to preserve his good name."

Shaw leaned closer to Larson. "It's called extortion."

Larson shook his head. "That is such an ugly word. Look, if you guys want to arrest me, go ahead, but know that my lawyer will have me out and about in a Las Vegas minute." He turned to Shaw. "You good?" He turned to Finn. "You good?" He looked straight ahead and started walking away. "Me, too."

* * *

**Meanwhile...**

Morgan walked into the DNA lab to find Henry on the computer. "Got your text. Please tell me you have answers."

Henry stood up and came over to the middle table. "Well, let's start with the finger in the jar. Now, it turns out the finger was not suspended in saline and blood, as I expected, but saline and something else. I sent it off to Hodges for analysis."

Morgan picked up the jar. "And you're sure that it's Paul Winthrop's finger."

"It is. And the story would end there. Except I found blood on the statuette."

Morgan set the jar with the finger down. "Well, Paul Winthrop's blood, right?"

"That's what I thought. And because we're dealing with twins, in order to distinguish them, I ran an antibodies profile. Not only was it not Winthrop, but the sample was female. Two females, to be exact. Identical twins."

Henry had expected Morgan to look a little shocked, but she surprised him by appearing contemplative. "How much blood did you find?"

"Well, there were only a couple usable traces for testing, but take a look."

Morgan grabbed the ALS and turned off the desk lamp before looking at the statue. It was covered in little spots of blood. She turned off the ALS and looked at the statue, shaking her head. "He wasn't just sending us a message. Winthrop sent us a murder weapon."

* * *

Greg saw Hodges standing outside the Trace lab looking at his right arm in the mirror. It was strange. He knew he didn't normally see Hodges without the long sleeves of a button-up shirt and lab coat, but he could have sworn that Hodges hadn't had all those tattoos the last time he'd seen the self-proclaimed King of Trace.

He stopped behind Hodges. "You got to be kidding."

Hodges chuckled and shook something out. "I know. It's not really me, is it?" Greg shook his head slightly, still somewhat in shock. "Yeah, I picked up these sleeves at the costume shop down the block." He handed the second sleeve to Greg. "Just wanted to see what it would feel like to be a serial killer."

Hodges grabbed his lab coat from the rack and pulled it on. Greg stood in the doorway for a few more moments, still absorbing what Hodges had really done. That sleeve had looked so real on his arm that it had convinced Greg that the Trace King had really gone and gotten tattoos all over his arm recently. He realized the Hodges was giving him his report, so he shook his head to clear it and approached the table.

"So, I pulled the booking photo of Jared Briscoe's tats." Hodges showed Greg the photo. "Now, this liquid that Winthrop sent us his severed finger in is a mixture of saline solution and Cryers #2 Vermillion Ink."

"Let me guess. Used in tattoos."

"Well, not just any tattoos." Hodges pointed to the photo. "These tattoos. I've discovered in my research that certain tattoo artists are quite particular about which inks they use. And Cryers #2 Vermillion is very rare. So rare, in fact, that I was able to identify Briscoe's artist."

"Okay, but what does that have to do with the jar of ink that Winthrop sent us?"

"Briscoe's artist lives in Seattle. He has an ex-wife who moved to Vegas last year to live with her twin sister."

Greg realized what Hodges was suggesting. "Henry found blood in the Castor and Pollux statuette consistent with identical twins. Unknown females."

Hodges held up the folder in front of him. "Not unknown now. I've got names and an address." He handed the folder to Greg.

* * *

Greg filled Sara in when he rejoined the group after talking to the landlord. "Building manager confirmed the loft's rented to Amelia Vance."

Sara made sure she kept pace with the cops. "What about the sister?"

"Name's Margo. She signed onto the lease a year ago. Manager said he stopped by yesterday 'cause they complained the AC wasn't working. No one answered."

They stopped by the door to the apartment. Greg and Sara stayed back so Mitch and the two uniforms he'd selected to join them would be able to do their job without worrying about the CSIs. The cops unsheathed their guns and Mitch pushed the slightly ajar door open. Greg pulled his gun out too, just in case.

Mitch called through the open door. "Amelia Vance, LVPD." Mitch walked inside, and the other uniforms did too. Greg and Sara followed behind them, entering the apartment that was set up like a tattoo parlor. The middle of the room was cleared out and trajectory strings crisscrossed the space.

Sara rolled by the tattoo chair where all the tools of the trade were arranged on the table beside it. They moved to the middle of the room and looked at the strings. Just like the other Gig Harbor killings, the crime scene had been processed for them with the strings and the evidence markers by various items, blood pools, and stains.

"Another processed crime scene." Sara panned her flashlight around the scene, looking at the blood and obvious signs of a struggle.

Greg was doing the same. "Strings and blood suggest two events."

"Two victims. Again, he took the bodies." She pointed her flashlight down and saw a picture of Jared Briscoe. She picked it up to get a better look. "Russell's theory was right. Winthrop and his brother have become one." She turned the photo around so Greg and Mitch could see.

Greg nodded. "Dead ringers."

The uniforms cleared out of the room to give the CSIs the space to work. Greg went back to the SUV to grab his new toy and Sara took pictures of the crime scene. She was almost afraid to move around the crime scene much more because of her wheels. Greg came back in with the new tool and she asked for his help in putting the tire covers on her wheels so she could move about the scene without fear of tracking in contaminants. Greg then set up the special camera over some blood spatter and got the program running. Sara returned her camera to her kit and shone her light around the scene.

Greg also looked around the scene a little more. "Just like old times. Everything's been dusted, everything's already processed."

Something was bugging Sara. "Something is different this time."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, not everything's been dusted, and these green strings…" Sara pointed up to them with her light, "Gemini? He didn't even try to hide them among the other strings."

Greg understood what Sara was getting at. "Different murder weapon, too. No gaff. This time, he bludgeoned them to death with a marble sculpture."

"And this rope he used?" Sara had rolled around the stringed portion of the crime scene and was looking at a rope sticking out from under the bed. "Never seen anything like it. Looks hand-braided. Unusual fiber. Some kind of powdery trace on it. It's yellow. It looks organic in nature. Suggests secondary transfer." Sara pulled her camera back out of her kit and snapped a few pictures of the rope. "How's it going with your new toy?"

Greg glanced back at it. "Oh, camera's acquired the image. Just loading it now." He turned to go to the computer.

Sara followed. "So this thing is gonna give us T.O.D. on our victims?"

"Well, it's worth a try. We've had this hyperspectral imaging prototype in the lab for over a month. I've been waiting to field-test it."

Sara hadn't even heard about this machine, let alone seen it in action. "How's it work, exactly?"

"Well, it's all about the hemoglobin in the blood. As a bloodstain ages, the blood reacts with oxygen and breaks down."

"Right, which is why blood changes color from red to brown."

"Well, this camera records those changes. And then maps them on a visible reflectance spectrum." Greg pointed to the screen. "So, here is the crime scene blood drop. I'm comparing it to a preset baseline of a fresh blood drop. Software does the rest. Calculating the difference between the two spectra, thereby computing the age of the blood."

"Wow." Sara had to admit she was impressed.

"Oh. And… we got our answer." Greg read the result from the screen. "The murders took place… twelve hours ago."

"So something is different."

"Yeah, I mean, the other murders took place weeks before we discovered the crime scenes."

Sara turned her head toward the rest of the apartment. "And he took days to stage them. Winthrop has accelerated his time frame."

"But why?"

Sara rolled closer to the crime scene and stopped by the voice recorder by evidence tag three. She leaned forward and picked it up. "If anything holds from the past, I'm sure he's eager to tell us." She pushed play.

* * *

**A/N: What is Winthrop going to say? Find out next week. Stay tuned!**


	40. Chapter 40

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank phnxgrl for her review. This chapter starts in the next scene from the episode. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 40

Sara and Greg returned from the apartment crime scene with the evidence they had collected and the tape recorder was handed over to Russell. "Winthrop left another recording. You should listen to it."

Russell took the voice recorder. "Thanks, Sara."

He went into the A/V lab and handed the recorder to Finn for her to run analysis on it before he listened. He didn't want to listen to it and then have to wait for the analysis while he sat around wondering what it all meant. Later, when Finn told him she was ready, he returned to the A/V lab. Finn plugged the recording in and hit play. The voice was still altered, though not as well as before.

"Clearly, our killer's behavior has altered. Two victims this time. Female. Not college age. Selected for other purposes. One being a tattoo artist. Elementary profiling would say the killer's psychosexual fixation has given way to a transformative agenda. Is that what you'd say, Mr. Russell?" The alterations in the voice, which hadn't completely hidden Winthrop's voice, had been dropped. "Games are over, right? We can finally be honest with each other. I'm sure you've realized your mistake. It's one others have made. From the very beginning, this world tried to separate Jared and me. So many have paid for that injustice. But those truly responsible have escaped our wrath. Until now."

Finn stopped the playback. "So I ran audio analysis. There's no evidence of anyone else on the recording. He has to have somebody else helping him. And it's not his brother's ghost."

"Right, I mean, the guy was wounded. So he had to lay low. Somebody's been hiding him."

Finn nodded in agreement. "Mm-hmm."

"He also doesn't have any access to his bank accounts, so… somebody has to be supporting him."

"Larson says that it's Winthrop's father, Collin. Do you believe him?" Russell pulled a face that said no and Finn knew what her next step would be. "All right, I'm going to follow up on both of them."

* * *

Hodges held up the evidence bag containing the rope and started telling Sara about it. "You were right about the rope from the crime scene. It's unusual. Definitely not your standard bondage gear. If anything, it tends more towards a fetish of gardening."

"Gardening?"

"You are looking here at a handwoven plant fiber. Specifically Apocynum cannabinium. Otherwise known as dogbane. It's an invasive species. Grows like a weed almost anywhere."

Sara was disappointed. "So, not particularly helpful."

Hodges agreed. "No. But… the trace that you pulled from the rope… that's a different story." He picked up a folder and opened it, pulling out a page. "You were also right… it's organic." He handed her the page and took a picture out of the folder to show her. "These are pollen spores from a cactus called the Artemis bloom."

"Artemis. Goddess of the hunt."

"Artemis was also the daughter of Zeus, twin sister to Apollo. So I'm thinking that perhaps it's another message."

The use of Greek mythology in the Gig Harbor kills made it hard for Sara to discount the possibility. "Probably. Is there anything more you can tell me about the plant?"

"Uh, the Artemis bloom is very rare, very delicate and also very expensive. It's the ultimate hothouse flower. Prized only by serious enthusiasts with deep pockets."

"Now you're talking."

"And you're thinking that if Winthrop isn't our flower enthusiast, perhaps he's spending time with someone who is."

Sara nodded. "Maybe his partner."

* * *

Finn pulled up a bio on Paul's father. "Collin Winthrop. Wealthy recluse, plant hobbyist."

"Who spawned a bad seed." Shaw was looking at the computer over Finn's shoulder. "Looks like our weekend botanist had some practice."

"Yeah, not just cultivating the sick impulses of his son, but seems to have some of his own." She pulled up a few news articles on him. "2006. Legal secretary accused him of sexual assault. Case never went to trial." She pulled up another article. "Rumors of more women and more allegations."

"Well, Larson's theory about Winthrop Sr. is getting better and better."

"Mm." She shook her head slightly. "There's just one problem." She pulled up the last article. "Says here that he reportedly fled to Mexico. Which means that he could still help his son from afar, but couldn't participate in the murders."

"Unless Dad never left the country." He moved toward the file boxes. "These are my files, right? The ones from my hotel room after I was arrested?"

"Yeah, why? What have you got?"

"Well, like I said, I was following the money. I was looking into the Winthrop company financials. I remember a series of transactions, donations to a nature conservancy. I thought it was a front, but…" He found the folder he was looking for, "Here it is. Tax records show there actually was a charity devoted to the preservation of exotic plant species." Shaw set the folder down so Finn could see it too. "How much you want to bet that money went straight into Papa Winthrop's pockets?"

Finn took the top sheet from the folder. "Place is in Briar Creek, California."

"San Diego County's a little out of your jurisdiction."

"You know, I think I know a guy who knows a guy."

* * *

Nick stopped the car and got out, stretching his back before he held up his walky. "Hey, Finlay, what's your twenty?"

"_Shaw and I are about five minutes out_."

"All right, I'm gonna get the lay of the land out here and I'll call you back."

"_Copy that_."

Nick noticed a CSI was heading toward him. "You Ellis?

"Yes, sir. Good to meet you, CSI Stokes."

Nick laughed and they shook hands. "Call me Nick, please."

"I got it. Lab Director Nolan said to extend you every courtesy."

"Did he?"

"And from what I hear, I may be working for you full-time soon."

Nick was slightly uncomfortable hearing that Nolan might have already started telling his CSIs that he would be their new boss. "Oh, we'll see about that. What's the situation out here?"

"We've got the place surrounded. Warrants in hand." Ellis showed Nick the overhead photo of the property. "There's no activity in the main house. But we have eyes on Collin Winthrop. He's working in the greenhouse."

"What about Paul?"

"No sign of him. But my money's on the guesthouse." Ellis pointed to it on the photo. "The shades are drawn, place is secluded, and has easy access to the back gate."

"Okay, why don't you and I take the guesthouse. We'll have your team search the property. When my guys get here, they'll take Daddy Winthrop."

* * *

While Nick and Ellis headed to the guesthouse, Finn and Shaw went to talk to Paul's father. "Collin Winthrop. I'm CSI Finlay, LVPD. I have a warrant to search your property."

Collin Winthrop was tending to an Artemis bloom cactus and slowly straightened up when Finn had finished speaking. "No warrant for my arrest?"

"Depends on what we find." Shaw stopped just behind Finn's shoulder.

"What do you expect to find?"

"Your son."

Winthrop didn't seem surprised by that. "Uh-huh."

Shaw was looking around the greenhouse. "Maybe some evidence linking the two of you to the five women who were murdered in Las Vegas."

"My son and I are innocent. We are the victims here."

"Oh, yeah. How do you figure that?"

Collin Winthrop stared at Finn. "Well, Paul and I share a natural appetite for… certain pleasures. Society may not approve, and the law may attempt to prohibit, but when they are both impotent to stop us, we are accused of brutalities."

Shaw interrupted Collin. "Is that why you fled to Mexico?"

Collin shook his head and justified himself again. "It's not a crime for a man to want to abandon his life for a time and wander in the desert in search of beauty. Like you see here."

"Mr. Winthrop, where is your son?" Finn was getting tired of Collin dancing around the topic.

"You know…" Collin laughed and sidestepped again, "if you're not going to arrest me, I would like you two to leave."

* * *

**Meanwhile…**

Nick and Ellis approached the guesthouse, drawing their guns as they reached the door. They entered quietly, moving down the hall and checking the rooms they passed on the way. Nick reached the bedroom first and swung his flashlight around the room. Ellis came in behind him and they searched the room more thoroughly. On the table against a wall were bloody bandages and various medications.

Nick pointed it out to Ellis. "Oh, yeah, look at this. Winthrop was licking his wounds." He moved his light to the bed and noticed the Kevlar vest.

Ellis had his light trained on the door in the opposite wall. Nick turned to look at it and they both moved to a tactical position to breach it. Nick carefully opened the door. It led to the rest of the guesthouse. They moved down this second hall and approached the kitchen. Nick poked his head around the corner and saw Winthrop's workshop, but no Paul. Hanging from the ceiling were trajectory strings and lined up on the counter were evidence markers.

"Yeah, Winthrop was definitely here."

"And he's gone now." Ellis noticed the large box against the wall. "Freezer chest. What do you think?"

Nick shined his light on it. "That's never good." Nick walked over to the chest and lifted the lid with his arm. The lid creaked open, revealing the contents.

* * *

**Meanwhile…**

Finn's radio crackled to life. "_Finn, it's Nick. I've got two bodies here in the guesthouse. Twins_."

Finn looked at Collin. "Copy that. You're under arrest." She gestured to the SDPD uniforms and they moved in to arrest Collin Winthrop, who surrendered without a fight.

They walked behind Collin as he was taken to the cars. "Well, there's half the battle."

Finn wasn't satisfied with this. "It's not going to help us find his son."

Shaw wasn't ready to give up. "So we'll find him."

"'We'?" Finn's phone started to ring. "You mean I'm never gonna get rid of you?" They chuckled at each other and Finn answered her phone.

"_I see you met dear old Dad. I know what you're thinking: 'chip off the old block.' But that's where you're wrong_." It was Paul.

Finn realized what Winthrop was about to do. "Get down, everybody!"

Before she could finish the sentence, Collin Winthrop was shot in the chest. The uniforms by his side lowered him to the ground and Finn turned to try and see where the shots were coming from. Shaw turned to look at her and saw a red dot on her chest. He threw himself at her.

"Get down!" Shaw grabbed Finn's shoulders and was in the process of pulling her to the ground when he got shot in the back. He collapsed to the ground with a groan of pain and she fell too.

Finn crawled to Shaw's side. "Daniel!" Shaw rolled onto his back, grunting in pain. "Oh, God!" Finn grabbed her radio. "This is CSI Finlay. I need medical at my location, code three."

"Get down." Shaw's voice was weak and he was clearly in pain, but he couldn't help trying to warn Finn again.

Finn ignored him. "The ambulance is gonna be here any minute. Come on, hold on. Breathe. Breathe! Breathe!" She was getting flashbacks of Mark getting shot in the elevator at the forensics conference, only this time Shaw was in much worse condition. He had already lost consciousness and wasn't breathing. The blood pool beneath him was growing rapidly. Things weren't looking good.

* * *

**A/N: Will Shaw survive? Stay tuned to find out!**


	41. Chapter 41

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank phnxgrl and stlouiegal for their reviews. phnxgrl: With that setup, I'm hoping for a CSI: San Diego somewhere down the road. stlouiegal: That family is twisted. They never really explained why Colin was shot, though I get the sense that he didn't die. This chapter starts right after the shooting in the last chapter. I've given one of Morgan's scenes to Sara in this chapter. Can you spot it? Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 41

Ellis walked out of the orange grove with a sniper rifle in hand. "Found the sniper's nest on a ridge above the property 500 yards away." He handed the rifle over to Nick. "He had a clear shot."

Nick started checking the weapon. "Did you scramble the search team?"

"Got every available unit on it. The problem is, Winthrop probably knows this area better than any of us."

"Yep." Nick was looking through the scope, trying to get into Winthrop's mind at the time of the shooting.

"Gives him the upper hand."

Nick lowered the weapon. "You gonna process the rifle?"

"I thought you'd want to do it yourself."

Nick nodded. "Yes I would."

* * *

Finn called Russell to let him know what happened at Collin Winthrop's property. As expected, he was worried. "_You sure you're okay?_"

"Yeah, I'm okay." Finn stopped walking and sighed. "D.B., Shaw took the bullet for me."

"_I'm sorry, Jules. Were you able to confirm that… that Winthrop was the shooter?_"

"Uh, Nick, uh, just processed the gun. His prints are on it. Units are searching, but…" she glanced at the coroner's van and watched as they closed the body bag Shaw was in, "still no sign of him."

Apparently she was on speaker in Russell's office or PD because Ecklie's voice came over the line. "_Son of a bitch is long gone_."

Finn had to agree. "I'm gonna stay here and collect the evidence. Nick's coordinating with the San Diego crime lab to, uh, transport it all back to Vegas."

"_No, no. You need to get back here now, Jules_."

Finn hatted when he called her that. "I told you, I'm okay."

Apparently Ecklie agreed with Russell. "_No, you're lucky. Winthrop's beyond targeting college girls now. He shot his father, and he tried to kill you. This is getting personal_."

"_I agree with Conrad_."

Two on one wasn't very fair, but Finn relented. "All right, I will transport Shaw's body and the others back to Doc." She was hoping they would at least let her help a little.

Russell was willing to let her do that much for the case. "_All right, but afterwards, you go straight home. No arguments_."

"Fine. I'll see you in a few hours." Finn ended the call with Russell and called Nick to let him know what was going on.

* * *

**Hours Later...**

Doc looked up as Russell walked in. "I confirmed C.O.D.'s on our female victims. Blunt force trauma to the head."

David walked over. "Women had so many fractures to the body and skull, I almost lost count."

"It's not just the blunt force trauma. Winthrop's M.O. seemed to have changed as well. With his earlier victims, there's no sign of sexual activity."

Russell took his eyes off the victims and turned to Doc. "You found semen?"

David looked up from his clipboard. "Yeah. On both victims."

"Latent bruising plus the ligature marks suggest, at the very least, rough sex."

Russell nodded. "All right, let's get the DNA to Henry."

* * *

Russell walked into the A/V lab to see what Sara was working on. "What'd you get?"

"Hey. So, Collin Winthrop had an extensive HD surveillance system at his house. Cameras all over the property. It's no surprise that those cameras caught Paul Winthrop in his guesthouse, but…" she pulled up a specific video, "this is what I wanted you to see."

The video was in the greenhouse. "That's Collin Winthrop, right? Who's he arguing with?"

"Our friend, Brother Larson."

Russell was pissed. "That son of a bitch. He told us that he had stopped having dealings with Winthrop Sr."

Sara shrugged. "Could be we've been wrong. Paul Winthrop might have had more than one co-conspirator."

Russell pointed at the screen. "It would help if we knew what they were talking about, but obviously that's impossible."

Sara glanced around the room. "You know, this is gonna sound crazy… but I think the plants can help us." She rotated the handles on her chair back to sit down and headed to another table. "Thanks to the many digital recordings that Winthrop has been leaving for us, Morgan and I requisitioned every audio analysis program on the planet."

Russell took a seat in the chair next to Sara. "Including one that listens to plants?"

"Not exactly." She highlighted a section on the video. "This one tracks minute vibrations of all sorts of different objects in a space, and analyzes the sounds that created them."

"Okay, I- I get that the sound of a voice can vibrate the leaves, but if you can't even see it, then h- how do you measure it?"

"Well, this is where the impossible becomes possible. This software is able to detect motion less than one one-hundredth of a pixel. By combining and filtering all that minute motion over the image, it can actually recover the sound of their voices."

Russell shook his head in wonder. "I'm impressed."

* * *

Russell had Brother Larson brought in to PD for an interrogation. Sara had managed to recover the argument from the greenhouse, and Russell played that first. Collin Winthrop's voice was grainy, but at least they had sound now. "_I am tired of the blackmail. I'm tired of the lies_."

Larson's voice was softer, but also audible. "_I am not lying. I'm telling you, I don't know_."

"_Oh, you know. You've always known. Now, where is she?_"

"_That's not the reason I came here_."

"_No, you came here for money, as usual, and you're not gonna get another cent until you tell me where my daughter is! I- I know, you think I'm gonna hurt her_."

Larson cut off Winthrop's voice. "_Like you did before_."

"_Oh, that's all in the past. I'm talking about now. I'm talking about Paul_." Winthrop Sr.'s voice was getting desperate. "_He's figured it out. He knows who May really is. And I need to protect her, 'cause if he finds her, he's gonna kill her_."

"_He'll never find her, and neither will you_."

The live Larson started smirking. "And you got all that from a plant?"

Russell shut the laptop and sat down. "Yeah, don't worry about it. You know, I agree with Winthrop. I'm tired of all the lies. Based on that conversation, I did a little digging around the Winthrop family tree. And it turns out that Collin Winthrop had a daughter. May. May went missing around age fifteen. Police at the time determined that she was not kidnapped. She just ran away. And, Brother Larson, I think you know where she ran to."

Larson looked away from Russell. "Hmm. I do not."

"Look, I gave you a 'get out of jail free' card last time because you helped me. If you do not come clean here, I promise you, it's gonna go the other way."

Larson thought about that for a moment. "I guess confession is good for the soul." He cleared his throat and began. "I'm gonna tell you a little story. Not a pretty one. About a young girl, fifteen. Innocent… or so it seemed. Pregnant, she ran off to a convent. There she gave birth to twin boys, Paul and Jared. But she didn't want them. More than that, though, she didn't want her father to lay claim to them, because… they were his blood."

"You're- you're saying that Paul and Jared were the product of incest?"

"Yes. Now, May hid behind a name, Nancy Harper, just like she hid the boys. She found a home for Jared, but Paul was sickly. She tried to buy time by pretending he died, but Collin found Paul. Raised him. But he never found Jared… or May. She vanished." Larson finished his story in a whisper and a grin, like he'd just finished a great, dark story.

Russell looked at Larson for a few seconds. "You're pathetic, you know that?" Larson looked confused and Russell set a page in front of him. "We ran your DNA. It's a familial match to Paul Winthrop. So, you can forget your Chinatown story. You are the father of Paul and Jared."

Larson looked at the page and sighed. The game was up. "You want the truth? A lie can be a powerful thing. It can be used to deceive. It can be used to protect. I admit I deceived you, but I only did it to protect May. I had nothing to do with these murders." Larson leaned forward. "Come on, Mr. Russell. You know what this is all about? Paul Winthrop has been killing his mother over and over, getting ready for his End of Days. And with Jared gone, that time has come. Paul will find May. He will render judgment. Unless you protect her. As, apparently, I no longer can."

Russell nodded. "Okay. If I'm gonna protect May, I need to know where she is."

"You already do. The convent she ran off to, she never left it. You're CSI Finlay? She's met May. Or should I say… Sister Alice."

* * *

Russell found Sara waiting for him when he returned to the lab. "Every time I talk to that guy, I feel like I need a shower. I don't even know why I bother to believe him anymore."

"I keep thinking about what Winthrop said to you on the digital recorder… that so many have paid for the injustice done to him and Jared."

Russell remembered what she was talking about and quoted it to her. "'And yet, those who are truly responsible have escaped his wrath until now.'"

"Think about it. He killed Colin Winthrop, he tried to kill Finn. At some point, he's probably gonna come after you."

"Yeah, but top of his list has to be his mother who abandoned him and his brother, right?"

"Not only abandoned them. Separated them, cast them adrift." Sara figured that the larger crime to Paul was that he'd been separated from his twin.

Russell had an idea. "Yeah, you know what? She's the way we're gonna catch this guy." He came to a stop. "Okay, okay, so, Finn and I will go up to Seattle. We'll put this Sister Alice into protective custody."

Sara turned her chair so she was facing Russell. "Use her as bait."

"Right. Do me a favor. Call Seattle PD. Let's get eyes on the convent. I'll pick up Finn on the way to the airport."

Sara nodded and returned to her office.

* * *

Russell returned home and grabbed an overnight bag, then headed to Finn's place. He'd called her as he left the lab and left a message on her phone telling her to pack, so she was hopefully ready by now. He parked on the street outside and went straight up to her floor. Turning the corner, apartment five came into view. He stopped outside the door and knocked.

"Jules, it's me." He waited for a moment, but he didn't hear anything. "Hey, Jules, come on, open up." Russell reached out to try the handle and noticed what looked like blood on the door's frame. He looked around the landing, and then pressed down on the handle. It turned easily and the door swung open.

Inside was a partially processed crime scene. Trajectory strings and evidence markers where interspersed with broken glass and random items on the floor. In the middle of it all was a pool of blood and sailor's gaff. Russell started to breath heavily. He felt like he'd been punched in the gut and his heart ripped out. _Winthrop_. He'd been unable to kill Finn in San Diego, so he'd tried again in her own home. Russell walked deeper into the apartment, trying to make sense of how this could have happened.

"Hello, Mr. Russell." Russell spun around to see Paul Winthrop standing in the doorway. "Jared and I have been waiting for you."

"What have you done?"

"It's it obvious? She's dead." Russell grabbed the gaff and Paul raised his right arm, gun in a gloved hand. "Easy! Easy, now." Russell stopped moving when he saw the gun in his face. "Let's not rush this."

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the cliffhanger, but I ended this chapter where the commercial break was. Stay tuned for the final chapter of this case!**


	42. Chapter 42

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank phnxgrl for her review. Brother Larson does tell a good story. I'm glad Russell was able to put him in his place.**

**Based on the physical aspects of the episode, I switch Morgan and Sara's roles toward the middle of the chapter. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 42

Sara had her phone cradled between her shoulder and her ear as she rolled down the hall. "Yeah, copy that, Nick. As soon as you wrap things up in San Diego, I need you back here. Russell and Finn are on their way to Seattle." She paused as he responded. "All right. Yeah, call me when you're on the road."

Sara ended her call and Morgan came up to her. "Hey. Seattle PD called back. They went to the convent. No sign of Sister Alice. Nuns have no idea where she is."

"Did you tell Russell?"

"I tried calling him and Finn. I can't get a hold of either of them. Do you know where they are?"

This was not sounding good to Sara. "They're supposed to be on their way up north, but I got a bad feeling. Listen, go to Finn's condo. I'll find Greg and meet you there."

Morgan nodded. "Okay."

* * *

**Meanwhile...**

Russell dropped the gaff and staggered back a couple steps. "Aah! You sick bastard!"

"How does it feel… to lose someone you love, to have your heart ripped away from you?" Paul lowered the gun. "Oh, I know what you're thinking. Was it quick? Did she suffer? Did she scream? You're the expert. What does the crime scene tell you?"

Russell had been looking away from Winthrop during his speech. He was trying to figure out how this could have happened; how Finn could have been tricked into letting him in. He loved her, not the way he loved his wife and family, but the way he loved his crime lab family, his friends. Losing her this way was agonizing. He was having a hard time accepting it. When Winthrop told him to look at the crime scene, Russell decided he wasn't just going to give this man what he wanted without a fight. He raised his head and stared at Winthrop, hatred in his eyes.

Winthrop wasn't interested in Russell's defiance. "Look at it." He raised the gun to Russell's face again.

Russell knew he wouldn't be able to make Winthrop pay for what he'd done if he was dead, so he turned to look at the scene. Finn's purse was on the floor, and there were obvious signs of a struggle. A vase was shattered near the purse, a chair tipped over by the door, glass between the chair and the blood pool, and a candlestick knocked from the chest of drawers. The pool of blood was small for exsanguination, so she didn't bleed out. There was also no blood spatter on the walls, so any injuries Finn had received were most likely non-fatal, at least not immediately.

Winthrop was enjoying this. "I want you to know she suffered. She begged for me to end it."

Russell looked back at Winthrop. "I don't believe you. You wanted me to take a look at your crime scene? The blood gives you away. That's hardly a lethal loss of blood, wouldn't you say? And where's the spatter? Come on, where's the spatter? You haven't even put up all your strings. You weren't waiting for me. I interrupted you before you were finished. Where's Finlay? Where is she?"

* * *

**Meanwhile...**

Morgan's car raced into the garage beneath Finn's building. She screeched to a halt and jumped out. "What do you have?"

Mitch walked forward to meet her. "Russell and Finlay's vehicles are here."

"They're still not answering."

Mitch fell into step with her. "I'll have my men secure the building. Then we'll move in tactically."

"Let's do it."

* * *

**Meanwhile...**

"Finlay is dead." Winthrop was trying to prevent Russell from shaking him up. "I told you. She's already buried in the desert where you will never find her."

Russell knew he was lying. "You're gonna tell me where she is."

Winthrop pointed the gun at Russell again. "I don't really think you're in a position to negotiate here."

"You've been looking for your mom, haven't you? I know who she is, Paul, and I know where she is."

"You're lying. Even my father didn't know that."

"That's 'cause your father's not Collin Winthrop. Your father was a pimp who got a fifteen-year-old girl pregnant with bastard twins. You and your brother."

Russell's words angered Paul. "I should kill you now."

"You do that… and you'll never know."

"Where is she? Where's my mother?!"

Russell knew he held the ace in the hole, and he wasn't going to give that up without something in return. "You tell me where Finlay is. I'll tell you where your mother is. What's it gonna be, Paul?"

Behind Paul Winthrop, the door to Finlay's apartment was kicked in. Paul spun around, his gun now pointing toward the cops who were coming in. Russell realized what was going to happen a second too late. "No!" Paul knew where Finn was and if he died, Finn might too. The cops and Paul fired. Paul was hit in the shoulder and fell down, dropping the gun. Morgan and Mitch came in, guns still pointed at Paul, who was clutching his shoulder.

"He knows where Finlay is." Morgan kicked Paul's gun behind her and Russell knelt down. "Where is she? Where is Finlay?"

Paul shook his head. "You'll never find her in time."

Russell stood up. "She's still alive. She's got to be close. He said he was gonna take her to the desert."

Morgan grabbed her walky. "He has to get her there somehow. Greg, Sara, where are you?"

Greg responded. "We just rolled up. In the garage."

"We need to find Winthrop's vehicle. We believe it's on the premises. Start canvassing. Start running plates."

"Copy that."

Russell tried one more time. "Where is she? Can you hear me? Where is she?!"

* * *

Sara and Greg were moving through the structure going from car to car. Greg was checking out interiors and Sara was on her walky with a cop at the station, reading license plates to him. "_All right, that vehicle's a negative. Next one_."

Sara rolled over to the next car. "Vehicle is a black Lincoln Continental, Nevada plates. Plate number HRGK-698."

"That car was reported stolen from the California-Nevada state line."

"Greg, take a look at this. This car was stolen this morning from the California state line." Greg inserted the tool to unlock the trunk and they swung it open. Sara saw Finn first from her lower angle. "Oh, my God. It's Finn."

Finn was tucked into the trunk, unconscious, blood all over her. Greg grabbed her under her arms and Sara grabbed her legs to get her out of the trunk. They carefully set her down and Sara slid out of her chair. Greg gently set Finn's head on the ground so he could check her vitals.

"Come on. Come on, Finn. Come on." Sara kept a hand on her friend's leg, feeling useless.

Greg grabbed Finn's wrist. "I can't find a pulse, but she's still warm." He leaned over her to listen for breathing. "Call Med-evac."

"Yeah." Sara grabbed her walky. "This is CSI Sara Sidle, requesting Med-evac assistance at my location. This is a code three."

Greg started chest compressions while Sara was calling in assistance. She sent the cops who came over back out to either help get the paramedics down here quicker or to prepare for the Med-evac crew to arrive. Greg continued CPR to try and bring Finn back. Everyone upstairs was notified of Finn's condition and the paramedics arrived to take over lifesaving efforts. Sara watched them load Finn into the bus with dread. Finn still wasn't responding.

* * *

**Weeks later...**

Russell was putting Finn's things in an envelope. He picked up her CSI ID badge and looked at it, sighing, and then put the badge in the envelope as Nick walked in. "D.B."

"Hey."

Nick walked in. "How're you doing?"

"One day at a time. Isn't that what they say?"

"So, I was just up at the hospital, and the nurse there told me you've been going up there every weekend?"

"Yeah, she's just not responsive. I mean, her body's healing, but they just can't say when she's gonna regain consciousness." Russell paused, not wanting to admit the possibility she might not. "Or if she will."

"Well, one thing we do know is that Winthrop is gonna recover, and when he does, he's gonna pay for what he's done. Right?"

Russell nodded. "Yeah."

Nick changed the subject. "Did Lab Director Nolan call you about that job?"

"Oh. I'm so sorry. Yeah, he did. He did, yeah." Russell leaned back in his chair. "Congratulations. I hear you're gonna take it."

Nick grinned. "I was. I think I'm gonna call him back, tell him to hold off on that for a little bit."

"No, no, no. Come on, sit- sit down… Just give me… give me one second." Nick sat and Russell continued. "Now… why would you do that?"

"It's just not the right time. Not right now, not with what's going on with Julie."

Russell sighed. "Whatever happens with Jules… there's nothing you and I can do about that. But if she was sitting in that chair right now, she would tell you to get your ass on that plane to San Diego, and you know it." Nick nodded, knowing Russell was right. "You need to do this, bud."

Nick left the meeting with Russell, still not one hundred percent sure that this was what he was supposed to do, but sure enough that he was willing to take the risk and the job. He went in to his locker and started emptying its contents into a box. Once the last item was in the box, he stood looking at the pictures he had pasted there. Sara and Greg came to the doorway to find him like that.

Sara crossed her arms. "You're not trying to sneak out of here, are you?"

Nick laughed. "No, I wouldn't do something like that to you." He closed the locker.

Greg shook his head. "Wow. This is really happening."

Nick nodded. "I respect and love you both. I'll miss you."

Sara smiled and nodded. "You better stay safe out there."

"I will."

"We're really happy for you. Lab Director Nick Stokes."

Sara looked up at Greg. "Has a nice ring, doesn't it?"

"Yeah."

Sara looked back at Nick. "We're still on for drinks at McCarthy's, right?"

Nick nodded. "Yeah. First round's on me."

Greg laughed. "The raise I hear you're getting, I think they should all be on you."

"Oh, yeah, that's fair enough, fair enough."

"Yeah, well, see you then, hmm?" Sara rolled her chair back and turned to leave.

Greg followed her out. "See you later."

Nick opened his locker again and removed the pictures to take with him. He went through the box and transferred anything he was taking with him to his backpack. The rest he left in the locker room for whoever might need them. He then shouldered his bag and headed out. When he got to the Crime Solve Score Board, the place where active and recently solved cases everyone was working on were displayed, he paused. There were a lot of memories on this board.

Not just this board; a lot of memories were in this lab. They all came flooding back, one on top of the other, all clamoring for his attention and Nick just let them fly. D.B. Russell and Sara Sidle; his mentor, Gil Grissom, Catherine Willows and Dr. Ray Langston; David Hodges, Henry Andrews and Greg Sanders; and of course, his best friend, the late Warrick Brown. He touched Finn's name on the board. Everyone else was getting the chance to say goodbye, but she was trapped in a coma. This would have to be the next best way to say goodbye to her in the lab. He put his CSI Las Vegas baseball cap on, took the Solved magnet off the drug trafficking case under his name and stuck it over his name with a smile before turning and walking out of the lab for the last time.

* * *

**A/N: As I said at the beginning of this case, ****I'm considering going on a hiatus until after the two-hour wrap-up episode airs to see if I want to adapt it or not. I may just decide to go off on my own though. Leave a comment below if you want me to go off on my own and include suggestions on what direction I should take if I do so. Either way, it will be at least a month before I post another chapter so that I have time to write up the entire case first. Stay tuned!**


	43. Chapter 43

**Author's Note: First off, I'd like to thank phnxgrl for her review of the last chapter. Secondly, I would like to apologize for taking so long to post this chapter. Life got in the way of writing/typing and I had two cases screaming to be let out at the same time. The one screaming the loudest is the "episode" that comes after this "episode" which means that on the plus side there won't be a long wait between chapters for a while. Yay! I will be adapting the series finale, but I will be making a some changes to it to suit what I've done with these AU chapters.**

**I would like to make a quick point on the timeline for this story. Due to Sara getting shot and having to transition to a wheelchair, the timeline for the final full season of episodes was pushed back by about a year by the time the final episode of season 15 coincides with my story. The "End Game" episode aired on February 15, 2015 where I live (I don't know if it was different elsewhere), but in my story, Finn's coma starts in February 2016. Keep that in mind going forward. And now, without further ado, this "episode" shows what happened after Paul Winthrop attacked Finn. For your information, there was a bit of a time jump, so this point in the timeline is after February 2016. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 43

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

_The heart monitor is still beeping. She's still alive_. Russell entered the room Finn was in and put flowers in the vase that had been reserved for him. He looked around. The room was decorated with get well signs and a few vases. A large bouquet had been recently added. Russell peaked at the card and smiled. Nick had sent these. His new job was treating him well.

Whoosh in, whoosh out.

Finn was on a ventilator to make sure she didn't stop breathing. She had been able to breathe on her own when she'd been revived, but with the coma not lifting her breathing had become less stable. The doctors felt she wouldn't wake up at all at this point. Life support systems had been set up to give her a chance; without them, Finn would die. Russell sighed. He was beginning to lose hope now too.

_This is my fault_. Russell sat in the chair at Finn's bedside. He had pulled her away from training FBI agents on how to read blood stains and into the Las Vegas Crime Lab. She'd been reluctant at first, even hated him a little after the way things had ended in Seattle, but she'd enjoyed working in a lab again and decided to sign on full time. He thought it had been a good thing at the time.

The Gig Harbor Killer resurfacing and targeting Finn made him wonder if he'd been wrong to do that. Several lives had ended just to make a point, old wounds had reopened, and now Finn was barely clinging to life. Ecklie was beginning to suggest hiring someone to fill her spot. Russell had just gone through the process to fill the hole Nick had left behind. He wasn't ready to do that again.

The preliminaries for Winthrop's trial were underway. Bail had been denied at least. There was no way Winthrop was getting out before the trial. The big battle was what charges to apply in regards to Finn. The D.A. was trying to get the judge to agree on Attempted Murder unless Finn died before the trial was over, at which point the charge would change to Murder 1. Winthrop's attorney was trying to keep the charge at Attempted Murder either way.

A woman entered the room and Russell stood. "Mrs. Finlay."

"Mr. Russell. The nurse tells me you've been here every weekend since Julie came in."

"Yes, ma'am."

Karen Joanne Finlay wasn't a large woman but, like her daughter, she commanded a presence. "Mr. Russell, I understand you have a… connection to Julie, but she's gone. I've come to look into letting her go."

"Wh- what are- what are you saying? You're going to end her life?"

"Her life ended the day she was attacked. I've done the research, read the statistics. Julie is gone. It's time to accept that and let her move on."

Russell shook his head. "You can't."

"I'm her mother. I'm the only one alive who can."

"That's going to complicate the legal proceedings."

"I don't really care about that. I'm trying to do what's best for my daughter."

"She's a fighter. Surely you know that." Russell felt like he was pleading to a brick wall.

Mrs. Finlay sighed. "I do know that. But she's not waking up. And we don't know what state she'll be in if she does." She looked at her daughter. "I know Julie doesn't want to live like this."

Russell looked at Finn and then back to her mother. "Give it to the end of the month. I've read the statistics too. There's still time."

"And it will help give the D.A. time to win his arguments. Fine. I will pray my daughter wakes up by the end of next week. If not, she deserves to die with dignity. It's what she wanted. And yes, I do know this for a fact. We've talked about it before."

"I know. I've had the same conversation with her myself. Thank you."

"I hope you're right." Karen moved further into the room. "May I stay with my daughter?"

Russell nodded. "I was just about to leave."

* * *

The first week went by without any change. Finn's brain still had activity, which was why Russell was holding out hope that Finn would wake up. Unfortunately, the activity remained fairly constant. Week one had just ended when Russell received the news. Finn's brain activity was starting to dip. D.B. started visiting her every day before work just in case she didn't make it through the night.

The D.A. won and the judge ruled that if Finn died, the charge would be Murder One. If Mrs. Finlay pulled the plug however, the charge would remain Attempted Murder. Russell didn't want to use this ruling against Finn's mom, but if Finn was going to die either way, he would rather she died on her own so the possibility of parole would disappear for the monster who had done this to her.

He could tell Karen knew about the ruling when she stepped into the room. "You made sure that clause was in the ruling, didn't you?"

"Actually, that clause was proposed by Winthrop's attorney. He didn't want your decision to end Finn's life to turn into a murder charge against his client."

"Did you tell his attorney?"

"I have no reason to help Paul Winthrop. Not even to keep Finn alive." Russell spread his palms wide. "I would rather she died with dignity like you want, but her life's end has become a messy legal battle."

"So now what?" Karen stared Russell in the eyes. "What do I do?"

"That depends on if you want Paul Winthrop to have a chance to get out or not."

Behind Karen, Finn stirred. They both turned to look at her. Her back arched and her breaths became choked. Her eyes flew open in panic. Russell rushed to her bedside while Karen yelled for a doctor. The heartbeat monitor's beeps picked up speed. Finn was fighting the ventilator.

"Finn, relax! Let the machine breathe for you. Stop fighting it!"

Finn's eyes locked with his, and they were filled with fear. She was terrified and there wasn't much he could do. "Finn, you're in the hospital. You're safe. There is a breathing tube in your throat. It is part of a ventilator. Let it breathe for you." Russell touched her throat. "Relax."

Finn kept her eyes on him and slowly was able to relax. Her breathing eased and she finally was able to take a breath without choking. The fear left her eyes until the doctor came in. Her eyes darted to his face and she tensed until she saw it clearly. Russell realized that part of her fear was an assumption that she was still in her apartment with Winthrop.

The doctor stepped up to her bed. "Julie, my name is Dr. Thomas Jacobson. I'm glad you were able to relax, but I need to sedate you in order to remove the ventilator."

Finn's eyes flew to Russell's and she started to choke again. "Jules, relax."

The doctor leaned over. "You won't be out for long. I need to sedate you so you won't get injured when the tube comes out."

Finn glanced from the doctor to Russell back to Dr. Jacobson. "It's okay, Jules. I won't leave you."

The doctor nodded at Russell and took a syringe from the pocket of his white coat. He injected the fluid into Finn's IV. Within a few moments, her eyes slid closed and her breathing relaxed once more. The doctor stepped out of the room to speak to a nurse and Mrs. Finlay moved out of the corner of the room to stare at her daughter.

"She woke up." Mrs. Finlay whispered in disbelief. "I'd given up on her, but she woke up."

Russell had taken Finn's hand. "I told you she was strong."

The doctor came back in. "I'll need everyone to step out."

"Would it be alright if I stood in the corner?" Russell looked at the doctor. "I promised I wouldn't leave her."

"Fine. Just stay out of the way." Russell moved to a corner of the room and the doctor moved to stand by Finn. Another doctor and a nurse came in. They all went over Finn's vitals before they started the process of removing the ventilator. Russell was watching the brain monitor. The waves were much stronger now. One of the doctors had mentioned that the waves appeared to be normal now.

The ventilator tube was removed and an oxygen supply hose was positioned at Finn's nostrils. The doctors did one last check of Finn's vitals and then they left the room. Russell took one of the chairs at her bedside and held Finn's hand again. She'd come so close to losing the fight until she'd come roaring back to life in a panic. She had no idea how long she'd been out or that she was in a hospital. To her, Winthrop was still in the apartment trying to kill her.

Mrs. Finley came back in. "She's still asleep?"

"Yeah. She'll be out for an hour or so."

"I'm sorry, Julie. I didn't know." She turned to Russell. "Thank you for stopping me with you did. It saved her life."

"The truth is, I'd started to lose hope too. But I still wasn't ready to just give up." Russell looked at Finn. "I know the kind of fighter she is. I had to give her one last chance. She took it." They sat in silence for a long time.

"She woke up." Mrs. Finlay smiled. "She woke up."

Russell sat back in his chair with a sigh. "Now we just have to wait and see what state she is in."

"She was aware of her surroundings." Karen looked across the bed at Russell. "That's a good sign, right?"

"I would say yes." Finn started to stir and Russell straightened. "She's going to wake up."

The heartbeat monitor started to speed up and then Finn's eyes flew open again. She bolted upright and Russell grabbed her arms as they started to flail around. Finn's mom backed away from the bed, looking startled and clutching her purse. Russell was calling Finn's name, but she'd clamped her eyes shut again.

Russell tried her full name. "Julie Anne Finlay!"

Finn finally stopped fighting and opened her eyes. "Russell?"

"Do you know where you are?"

Finn looked around. "The hospital?"

"How did you get here?"

"I don't..." She looked down; her eyes squeezed shut. "Don't let him hurt me!"

"Who?"

"Paul Winthrop." Finn opened her eyes again. "He attacked me."

"He's in jail now." Russell nodded. "What's my name?"

"D.B. Russell."

"Full name, Jules."

"Don't call me that."

"Jules! Please."

"Diebenkorn Russell. Why are you asking me all of this?"

"Finn. You've been in a coma. I was trying to see how you were."

Finn swallowed and took a deep breath. "How long was I out?"

Russell took his seat again. "It's been four months. You've been in a coma for four months."

* * *

**A/N: That's right, I brought Finn back. I didn't like that Elisabeth Shue decided not to come back for the finale and I wanted to keep Finn in my story, so I decided that she was going to recover. The next couple chapters will cover her time in the hospital, with a couple time jumps like I did with Sara's recovery, and then there will be a case for the team to solve while Finn is still out on medical leave. I will also spend some time with Finn as she learns to accept what happened to her. Sound good? Let me know where you think Finn 's story is going to go in the comments below. Stay tuned!**


	44. Chapter 44

**Author's Note: I want to thank Olivia Joanne Rodrigues, I Want A Vampire Monkey, was spratlurid quimby, and phnxgrl for their reviews. Olivia Joanne Rodrigues and I Want A Vampire Monkey: I hated that they killed off Finn too, but the actress decided not to come back for the finale, so it made sense to do so. I'm hoping that my changes will still be in line with the tone of the show.**

**This chapter begins right where the last one left off and includes a time couple time jumps. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 44

Finn flopped back on the pillows, breathing heavily. "Medically induced comas don't typically last that long. What happened to me, Russell?"

"Winthrop attacked you. You suffered a head injury. The doctors were able to stabilize your vitals and your body started to heal. For some reason, you just wouldn't wake up."

"What do you mean? What injuries did I have?"

Russell sighed. "You had four broken ribs, your right arm was broken in three places, and your nose was broken. You also had several lacerations and contusions as well as defensive injuries and your left lung was punctured by one of your broken ribs. It was your head injury that had us worried. The doctors ran a lot of tests and eventually concluded that you had a contusion on your brain. But the doctors were still unable to determine why you couldn't, or wouldn't, wake up."

Finn looked around the room. "Mom?"

"Oh, baby." Karen rushed to her daughter and pulled her into her arms. "I'm sorry. I'd given up hope you would wake up. I'm sorry."

"I understand. I know the statistics." Finn looked at Russell. "Please, D.B., tell me: what happened?"

"I texted you; told you to pack a bag so we could go to Seattle to protect Winthrop's mother. When I got to your place, the door was ajar and there was blood on the frame. I went inside… without calling for backup…"

"Somehow I'm not surprised." Finn tried to hide a smirk.

Russell chuckled. "We're lucky Morgan was trying to reach us both." Russell shook his head. "I was afraid you were already dead. It was very close. What do you remember?"

"I don't." Finn shook her head. "Not really. All I remember is his face. And blood. And pain."

"What I found were signs of a struggle, a small pool of blood, and a fisherman's gaff. He came in a moment later and said you were dead. I looked at the scene and realized he was lying. Sara and Greg found you in the trunk of a car, covered in blood and not breathing. They were able to revive you as the paramedics arrived."

"Do the others know I'm awake yet?"

Russell shook his head. "I haven't said anything yet. Should I?"

Finn smiled. "I would like that. Just make sure they know I don't want visitors just yet. I need to absorb all of this first."

Russell nodded. "You got it."

* * *

Sara and Greg entered the lab together and headed straight for the locker room. Greg grabbed his kit and left the room to see if any new cases had arrived. Sara put her kit in the basket and put the basket behind her, then hung her purse up on the hook inside her locker. On her way in, she'd noticed that Russell's car wasn't out in the lot. _He must be visiting Finn_.

Sara had just moved her phone from her purse to the pocket hanging from her wheelchair's armrest when it buzzed with a text. "_At 5:17pm today, Julie Finlay was released from her coma._" The text was from Russell and Sara's heart dropped. Having a specific time implied that Finn had lost the fight to live.

Morgan was just entering the locker room when the text arrived on her phone. "I was afraid of this."

Sara nodded. "We knew it was coming. Her vitals were starting to drop."

"It's not fair." Morgan sat on the bench. "Winthrop just won. It doesn't matter that he'll go to jail for the rest of his life. He got exactly what he wanted."

Sara's phone buzzed with a new text. "_Finn is doing well and appears to have not suffered the normal effects of a brain injury._" This text from Russell was followed by a picture of Finn leaning against the pillows of her bed, sticking her tongue out at the camera. The picture was followed by another text. "_Sara, I want you to let everyone know she's okay._"

Morgan was watching Sara. "You're popular."

"Finn's alive." Sara looked up with a big smile on her face. "She woke up."

"What?! But Russell's text…"

"I think he was messing with us. Look," Sara showed the picture to Morgan, "Russell just sent me a photo."

Morgan's face lit up. "We have to tell everyone."

"I think a family meeting is in order."

* * *

Everyone in the lab gathered in the break room. Sara was at the focal point and Morgan was standing by the door to make sure everyone had come in. Hodges had been in the midst of a tricky chemical analysis when he got the family meeting text, so they were waiting on him. He finally came in and Morgan nodded to Sara so she could begin. Sara cleared her throat and everyone turned to her.

The mood was somber as she began. "I'm sure many of you got Russell's text about Finn." Everyone nodded.

Greg shook his head. "I still thought she'd make it."

Sara nodded. "Russell sent me a couple texts after that that I would like to read. 'Finn is doing well...'"

The room erupted in gasps. "Finn's alive?"

"Let me finish. '... and appears to have not suffered the normal effects of a brain injury.' He then sent a picture that I will send to you... now."

Sara hit send and phones around the room started buzzing. Everyone started cheering and hugging or high fiving their neighbor. Sara smiled and received several hugs. This is what family did. They mourned when someone was hurt or killed and celebrated when they came out of surgery or a coma alive. Morgan was smiling when she came over to Sara and hugged her while thanking the brunette for telling her first. Hodges then stole the young blonde away to talk about Finn and the test results.

Russell sent another text. "_Let everyone know she's not up for visitors today or tomorrow. The doctors will be running a lot more tests_."

Sara sent back, "got it," and then got everyone's attention again. Sara read Russell's final text and then sent everyone back to work. Ecklie came in to act in Russell's stead until he arrived around nine. Everyone kept asking about Finn and he'd tell them what he knew as long as they kept him apprised of the various cases they were working. That shift was full of joy. Finn's miraculous recovery has boosted everyone's spirits and none of the night's cases could damage that feeling. Only time would tell if she would come back to lab...

* * *

**One week later...**

The doctor held up a colored card. "What is this color?"

Finn shook her head. "This is pointless. I'm fine."

"Ms. Finley, please."

She sighed and looked at the card. "Red."

He held up another card. "What animal is on this card?"

It was a Western scrub-jay. "Aphelocoma Californica."

The doctor smiled. "Good. And this one?"

"Green."

"Spatula."

"Grapes."

"Pizza."

The questions continued for a while. Finn started to get extremely specific on the shades of colors, the type of foods, and she continued to use the Latin names for animals to prove that her mind hadn't been affected by the coma. She knew her body has been affected. Four months of bed rest and newly healed broken bones had robbed her of her strength. Just like every other day, after the cognitive tests she would have physical therapy. She actually enjoyed that part of her day.

The doctor set down the cards. "Just a couple more questions. What month is it?"

"February. No... wait." Finn ticked it off in her mind. _February, March, April, May_. "June? Yeah. June."

"What is today's date?"

Finn shook her head. "I don't know. I'm done with this right now." She tried to get up quickly, but ended up plopping down on the seat again.

There was a knock on the door. "Mind if I come in?"

The doctor got up. "We're done for the day. Come on in, Mrs. Sidle."

"Thanks." The doctor left Finn's room and Sara parked across from the blonde. "How are you doing today?"

Finn sighed. "I want to get out of here. I want to go home. I want my life back."

"That seems familiar. I believe that's how I felt when I woke up paralyzed."

Finn shook her head. "All they do is ask questions all day. 'What it is?' 'Name that.' I'm fine. All I need is some physical therapy to get back on my feet."

Sara smiled. "You remember Mac Taylor?"

"We were helping him find Christine when she was thought to be missing in Vegas."

"Right. About a year before that, he was shot in the back. His brain didn't get oxygen for several minutes. When he got back on his feet, there were several things he knew he knew, but he just couldn't find the word."

Finn sighed. "What you getting at?"

"These questions, these tests? They're to make sure that you really are okay." Sara held out her hands to Finn. "Take my hands."

Finn held Sara's hands. "Thank you. I needed to hear that."

"Stand up." Sara pulled on Finn's hands and the blonde slowly stood. "Grab your walker and start walking the room."

* * *

**Four weeks later…**

Russell walked into Finn's room to see her doing pushups with her feet up on a footstool. He'd heard she'd been improving rapidly, but he hadn't realized how far she'd come. She paused in the middle of a push up and glanced up. When she saw Russell, she shook her head and did a couple more. She stood up and poured herself a glass of water from the pitcher on her nightstand.

"They going to let me out of here soon?"

"How long has it been since you woke up?"

Finn sat on the edge of her bed. "According to that calendar over there, five weeks and a day. Not that I'm counting."

"You're in luck. I'm here to spring you out. I'm looking forward to having the company now that Barbara's moved back to Seattle."

"Russell, I told you. I want to go home."

"I believe you'll recall a conversation we had about that. Your lease expired while you were in the coma and I couldn't convince them to extend it. Your stay with me can be as long or as short as you want. My only condition is that you have somewhere to go when you decide to move out."

"Russell, I don't want to be a burden. Especially not now that you're divorced."

"Nonsense." Russell took a seat. "Look, I understand what you're feeling. If I had a different option for you right now, I would tell you."

"I know." Finn looked out the window. "I'm scared, D.B."

"Winthrop can't hurt you now."

Finn shook her head. "Not that. No, I'm worried about my future. My job, my life. Things are going to be very different now."

"I think Sara might have you beat in life altering events."

"I know. But I feel different." Finn looked up as the doctor walked in. "Can I go now?"

"We just need to sign some paperwork and you can be on your way."

"Excellent. Where do I sign?"

* * *

**A/N: According to CSI: Cyber, Russell and Barbara are now divorced. I would assume that it happened as part of the aftermath with Winthrop and he was probably divorced in the series finale. As much as I wish it wasn't so, I'm including it in my story even though I'm not killing Finn. Also, I had to guess on Finn's injuries based on what I saw in "The End Game" and the fact that Russell said that Finn's body was healing even if she wasn't waking up. For those of you not up to snuff on medical lingo, a laceration is a cut or tear of the skin and a contusion is a bruise. What will the case be? It starts in the next chapter, so stay tuned!**


	45. Chapter 45

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank I Want A Vampire Monkey, phnxgrl, vegasgirl09 and the two or three Guests for their reviews. I'm glad to see that people are still finding this story and enjoying it. vegasgirl09: welcome to the story! To the Guest who suggested Russell and Finn should become romantic, I will be following the show and having Russell leave to go to Washington D.C., and by extension CSI: Cyber, so romance for Russell and Finn won't be likely. I'm not sure what I want to do between them or post series finale yet. For now, Finn needs to get better. I Want A Vampire Monkey: I agree that they could have kept Finn in a coma, but then I don't think Russell would have realistically left. I think he left Vegas because Finn was dead and he was divorced, which may have meant that he didn't feel like there was anything left for him there. Those are just my projections based on what I saw. phnxgrl: it just seemed like Russell would like to have a little fun with that so he could surprise everyone and lift their spirits. To clarify, Sara was the only one who got the clarifying texts and picture so that she could tell everyone at the same time.**

**This chapter starts a little after the last one ended and the case will start with this chapter. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 45

Russell pulled into the driveway of his house and parked. Finn hopped out of the car and looked up at her new, temporary home. It was a very nice place and if it was hers she would love to live here, but she was only staying here for a short time. This home belonged to her boss. She had to get her own place to live soon.

Finn opened the door to the backseat and grabbed her bag. "This is temporary."

"Yeah." Russell opened the front door. "Welcome home."

Finn looked around the home. D.B's divorce had changed the home a lot. Gone were the paintings of Seattle and most of the more feminine touches now that Barbara had moved back to Seattle. Moving to Vegas had been good for her at first because Charlie had been here, but the distance between her and her other three kids had been too hard and Katie's kidnapping had been the starting point in their marriage's decline. After Winthrop had attacked Finn, Russell had spent so much time at her bedside and at work that Barbara had finally had enough. Finn shook her head. She had missed a lot in the last five months.

Russell headed for the stairs. "I'll show you your room, Jules."

"Okay, Diebenkorn."

Russell led Finn upstairs and opened the door to a bedroom. "This is yours. I pulled your clothes out of storage. They're in the closet."

"Thanks." Finn walked into the room. "This is Katie's room."

"When Mia would come to visit, yeah. Barbara turned the other bedroom into her paint studio and I haven't changed it back."

"Thanks for this." Finn set her bag down on the bed. "It won't be permanent."

He smiled. "I know." He stepped back into the hall. "I'll let you get settled in."

Finn shut the door and pulled her cell phone out of her bag to text her mom. The woman had been asking for constant updates. Finn sent a text telling her that she had been released by the hospital and where she was now before she set the phone aside. Finn still had mixed feelings about what had happened just before she'd woken up. Her mother had wanted to pull the plug rather than let fate decide.

Finn knew she didn't want to live life in a coma or vegetative state, but her mother's decision would have given Winthrop a pass for killing her. She understood of course. They had talked about it and Finn had said she didn't want to live on life support. Her mother was just trying to make sure her daughter's wishes were being followed. That didn't mean she could ignore the legal ramifications of doing so.

The blonde stood and went to the closet. _So that's what Russell had meant_. Her clothes were folded in laundry baskets in the closet and the bar was full of empty hangers. She shook her head with a smile and grabbed the first shirt and a hanger. _I guess it's reasonable to let me take care of my own clothes_. She got to work sorting through them, decided what needed be hung or put in the dresser.

* * *

**A few hours later...**

Russell walked into the lab as the swing shift was leaving. He noticed that Hodges was already there, as usual, putting everything where he liked it. The new guy was just coming out of the locker room. Arturo Ibarra was a good fit in this family. He worked hard, respected the others, and was easy going. It was easy to like him. Russell was happy with the decision to let him join this team.

Russell set his briefcase on his desk, cared for his mushrooms, and checked the messages on his desk. Nothing new had come in, at least not anything urgent, so he set them aside and got started on the paperwork. Last shift's reports needed tending to, mostly for signatures. He looked over all of them and signed off on most of them before the first homicide case came in.

Sara and Morgan came in after closing a smash and grab at a bodega and met him on his way to the break room. "Perfect, I was just looking for you. We've got a 419. Greg and Ibarra are busy, so you're with me."

"Let me restock my kit and we can go." Sara rolled around Russell and Morgan followed her.

"Meet you up front." Russell returned to his office and grabbed his kit. The girls met him at the front desk minutes later and they headed to the scene.

Crawford met them as they exited the SUV. "Fair warning, it's a mess in there."

"That bad?"

"Yeah," Crawford turned to Sara, "you might not be able to go inside. Blood is everywhere."

"Good to know." Sara looked up at Russell. "Guess I've got the perimeter."

"Take Mitch with you." Russell waved Mitch over. "He can be your light."

Mitch nodded. "I've got you covered."

"All right. Let's go." Sara headed for the front door to start her circle of the perimeter.

Morgan held out hand. "I need the key. I'll get the step plates."

"Good idea." Russell handed her the keys. "I guess we should get inside." He led the way with Crawford a step behind.

"We're still waiting for David. There are three victims. By all appearances, they were beaten to death."

A uniform came out the front door and threw up on the lawn. Russell turned to Crawford and gestured to the uniform. "First homicide?"

"Yeah. He just got out of the academy a couple months ago." Crawford went to talk to the uniform and Russell went inside.

It looked like there had been a massacre. The three victims had been beaten and were scattered around the den, most likely left where they had died. Crawford was right; blood really was everywhere. Morgan walked in, her hands full of step plates. Russell took out his camera and started taking photos of the room. Morgan laid out a few plates and started to work her way into the room.

David walked in. "What happened in here?"

"No idea." Russell started following Morgan into the room. "Hopefully you can help us with that."

"I'll do my best." David started down the stepping plate path to the first victim. "This reminds me of Frank's Restaurant a bit."

"Yeah." Russell snapped a photo of the second victim. "I'm wishing Finn was back. She'd love to examine a room like this. It'd be a challenge for her."

"The old Finn, maybe." Morgan set down the last of the step plates.

"True." Russell took a few more pictures of the second victim and then moved on to the area him.

David pulled the thermometer out of the first victim. "97.7°; T.O.D. is between one and six hours ago. C.O.D. is blunt force trauma. I can feel where the bones of his skull are broken."

"Brutal. And unnecessary." Russell retreated down the stepping plate path to get another overall shot of the second victim.

"We're going to need more stepping plates." Morgan was coming back down the path.

"I'll get them." Russell and David got off the path where it began and Russell turned to Morgan. "Toss me the keys."

Morgan tossed the keys to Russell and he went out to the car. He grabbed another stack of plates and went back inside. Morgan was photographing the first victim and surrounding area. Russell started a second path, connecting it with the one Morgan had made. The rest he used to transect the middle of the path so getting around would be easier.

David was with the second victim. "I have blunt force trauma here too. His core temp is 98.2°. That would put T.O.D. between the time of the 911 call and 5 hours ago."

Morgan looked up. "That's after the first victim."

"Uh, Russell?"

"Yeah?"

"This victim is missing his fingerprints." David held up the victim's hand.

Russell came over to look. "I didn't notice that before. Where's your camera?"

David stuck out his chest and Russell used that camera to photograph the victim's hands. It was an unusual thing for a killer or killers to spend the time to try and hide the identity of their victim when C.O.D. was blunt force trauma. Blunt force trauma was a very violent and typically impulsive method to kill someone. Removing a method of identification was methodical and premeditated.

"Was the first victim like this?"

David shrugged. "I didn't notice, but it's possible. When we move him, I'll check."

"Good." Russell stood again and returned to the third victim. "It looks like hers are missing too."

"Missing what?" Sara was in the doorway. "I'm not coming in, but there shouldn't be any blood to track around out here. There's blood spatter on the door."

"Yeah, I noticed that. Two of the victims are missing their fingerprints. The third probably is too."

"What's C.O.D.?"

"Blunt force trauma." David waved. "Hi, Sara."

"Super Dave." Sara looked at Russell. "I might have forced entry at the back door."

Russell made his way down the path and went over to Sara. "Where?"

She led him through the house, Mitch providing the light. "Just over here. The house is abandoned, so forced entry might be expected, but these marks look fresh."

Russell shined his light on it. "Oh, yeah. So this might have been where they came in."

"There are no prints, unfortunately. But if I had to guess, I'd say they used a crowbar."

"Yeah, yeah." Russell straightened up. "Did you get the tool marks?"

Sara held up a small evidence envelope. "Right here."

"Great. Where have you gotten too?"

"I'm done with the perimeter. Want me to get started in here?"

Russell nodded. "Holler if you need some help."

"You got it."

Russell returned to the front room. "We have a probable point of entry. A crowbar was probably used. David, could a crowbar be the murder weapon?"

"There's too much blood to know for sure."

"What do you have for the third victim?"

"C.O.D. is as expected. Blunt force trauma. T.O.D. is approximately two hours before the first victim I looked at. Liver temp was 95°."

Morgan stepped off the path. "They were here for at least four hours. I'm guessing they were here even longer."

"Probably. It takes time to remove someone's fingerprints and beat them to death."

"They probably got blood on their clothes." Morgan pointed out a patch on the wall outside the den and then lifted her camera. "That's not spatter; those are smears."

"Yeah, I saw those too. What I want to know is who could do something like this?"

* * *

**A/N: Arturo Ibarra is a character I created to fill the hole Nick left when he moved to San Diego. I didn't think the show would bring someone new in for just one episode (**_a__nd unless Lindsey __was brought in to fill Finn's spot, I was wrong_**) especially with so many of the original characters coming back for one last episode. We'll get to meet Ibarra in little pieces over the next couple episodes.**


	46. Chapter 46

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank Crazy Aunt Ella, a Guest, and phnxgrl for their reviews. Crazy Aunt Ella: I was very against watching CSI: Cyber when it started too, but it's actually pretty good. Not nearly as good as the original, but it is still interesting and the ensemble cast great. Russell makes a great addition to that show as well. phnxgrl: Finn needs a place to stay now that her condo is no longer hers, and Russell would jump to help any of his team to recover, so it made sense to me that he would open his home to her until she had somewhere else to go.**

**This chapter delves into the crime scene more. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 46

The three CSI's were at the crime scene for a couple more hours collecting evidence and taking pictures. Sara went through the rest of the house, photographing the other rooms and picking up items from the floor that didn't look like they belonged, finishing before Russell and Morgan were done with the front room. David arranged for the three victims to be transported to the morgue and confirmed that the first victim he examined was missing his fingerprints as well.

Russell went into the layout room when he'd finished printing out and labeling his photographs. He organized his pictures on the walls by where it was in the room, creating a photo map of the crime scene, while making sure to leave space for Morgan's pictures and leaving the entire back wall for Sara's pictures. Morgan joined him a few minutes later and followed his system to post her pictures to the board.

Sara came in with her stack of photos. "I see you both got started. Back wall for me?"

"Yeah."

Sara wheeled up the ramp and got started. "So, what does this look like to you guys?"

"Three victims: two are male, one is female, two are Caucasian, and one is Hispanic. The woman was killed first, then this man," Russell pointed to the photo, "two hours later. The Hispanic male was third, an hour after the other man."

"No IDs at the scene and fingerprints were removed from all three victims." Morgan stuck up her last picture. "Blood was everywhere."

"Point of Entry is most likely the back door, which was opened by a crowbar or similar tool." Sara turned around. "I'll see if I can figure out which brand it is after this."

"Let Ibarra take that. I, uh, sent him and Greg down to the morgue to do the prep. We should have the victims' clothes soon."

"The clothes are in the drying cabinet." Greg came in. "All three victims were badly beaten. There are broken bones throughout their bodies. We had to cut the clothes off to not damage them further."

Russell turned to Greg. "David is finishing the prep?"

"Yeah. Doc will get started as soon as David's done with the first victim."

"Good, good."

"Ibarra is prepping some sims." Greg set his photos on the table. "If Doc can tell us what tools were used to kill the vics, we won't need them to figure out what happened."

Ecklie walked in. "I heard about this case. Is it as bad as it sounds?"

"Too soon to tell." Russell turned to the Sheriff. "It is a little odd. Three victims: No IDs, no fingerprints, and three different T.O.D.s. We think a crowbar was used to enter the abandoned home and probably served as the murder weapon."

"Do the victims share a type?"

Morgan pointed to the photos as she talked. "First victim was a white female. She died approximately two hours before the second victim, a white male. The third victim was also male, but he was Hispanic, and he died about an hour after the second victim."

"So, not exactly." Ecklie looked at all the photos. "Reminds me of some of Haskell's crimes."

Greg and Sara nodded. "Yep."

"So, until you have IDs on the victims, you're just working the evidence from the scene itself."

"That would be correct."

Ecklie straightened up. "Well, keep me posted."

"Yeah." Russell turned back to his team. "We have things we can look at. Let's get to work on that."

* * *

Sara started by researching the home itself. It had been abandoned several months ago when the owners foreclosed on the property. The bank had tried to sell it quickly, but no interest had let it fall into disrepair. The four homes nearest the crime scene, two on either side, had also been abandoned in foreclosure, with the last family moving just two weeks prior to the murders.

Sara turned to look at police records for that street. Squatters were the most common complaint, though there were a couple reports of those five homes getting broken into at least once after they were abandoned. Vague descriptions accompanied the B &amp; E's, but no arrests had been made and the uniforms never saw anyone. There was one arrest in one of the squatting reports, and Sara knew him. Maybe he would know something.

Ibarra came in. "Hey, Sidle."

"How long is it going to take for you to start calling me Sara?"

"Sorry. Everyone went by their last names in Phoenix."

"It's about fifty-fifty here. You have Greg, Morgan, me, Mandy, and Henry. Then there's Russell, Finn, Hodges, Ecklie, and you." Sara rotated the handles back and sat down again. "What's up?"

"I looked at the tool mark you found. It is most similar to a Stanley brand crowbar." Ibarra showed her the enhancement. "Unfortunately, its…"

"…a very common brand. What is that there?" Sara pointed to a spot on the enhancement of her tool molds.

"Something that is unique to this particular crowbar. If we find it, we can use these markings to match them."

"Good. I may have found a witness or person of interest. I was just about to see if he could be brought in."

Ibarra took a look at his picture. "Want me to come with?"

"Sure. I could use a ride."

* * *

Solomon Bronchi was the homeless man who had been arrested for squatting in one of the abandoned houses by the crime scene. His sentence had been thirty hours of community service on a trash pickup detail, which is where he had been when he'd been picked up. He was stewing in the interrogation room at the moment and had been for several minutes now, not happy about being pulled away during the first week of his service. Sara decided he'd been waiting long enough.

Ibarra was holding the folder. "Why was he only given community service? He has a rap sheet."

"His case was presided over by a lenient judge. I was the CSI who processed the house he squatted in to see if he'd caused damage. Let's see if he remembers me."

They went into the interrogation room and Solomon looked at the door. "Oh, good. The cripple is here."

"How are you, Solomon?"

"I haven't been squatting, if that's what you're asking. Got me a nice spot under the bridge for the I-95. Close to my new job." Bronchi looked at Ibarra. "Who's this?"

"This is Arturo Ibarra. He came in about a month ago. Solomon, three people were murdered in the house next to the one you were squatting in."

"I didn't do it."

"I checked your community service log. I know you didn't do it." Sara set a photo of the house on the table. "I'm wondering if you saw anything going on in this house while you were in the neighborhood."

"What's in it for me?"

Ibarra moved to stand behind Bronchi. "Your time here will count toward your community service hours."

"Fine." He turned to Sara. "Three guys would go in and out the back door. They didn't look like the friendly type, so I didn't rat them out when I was arrested. Didn't want their prison buddies shanking me in the shower if I went back to prison."

"Can you describe them?"

"Three Mexicans. That's all I cared to know about them." Bronchi shook his head. "When I saw them, I hid. I didn't want to get a good look because then they might get a good look of me."

Ibarra was looking at Sara with a confused expression on his face. "Why would you hide?"

Bronchi sighed. "They weren't always alone. Sometimes they'd bring someone in with them."

"Can you describe the people they brought in?"

"No. Not because I didn't see them, but because they always had a canvas bag over their heads. I hid because I didn't want to be next."

Sara and Ibarra shared a glance. "What did you see? How many were there?"

"Three before I was arrested. Not at the same time. There were a couple weeks with nothing between each. The screams were terrible."

Sara looked stunned. "If you weren't going to come forward, why didn't you leave?"

Bronchi shrugged. "It was the first home I'd been in for a long time. Where would I go that would be as nice?"

Sara backed away from the table. "Hang tight. I want you to look at a few pictures. A detective will show them to you."

"Take your time. This beats pickin' up trash."

Sara and Ibarra left the interrogation room and returned to the lab. "Russell!"

Russell had been walking down the hall, but he headed back to them at Sara's call. "Yeah, what's up? How did the interrogation with Solomon Bronchi go?"

"We have to go back to the crime scene. Bronchi claims that three other murders happened in that house while he was squatting next door."

"We went through that whole house. We didn't see any other bodies and there was no blood spatter."

"But there were three rooms where it looked like wallpaper had been ripped from the walls." Sara led the group to the layout room. "I assumed it was vandalism, like the graffiti in the kitchen, but I might have been wrong. I have the pictures here." She pointed at the pictures she was talking about. "We need to go back to these rooms and use Luminol. Also, Solomon described the men as Hispanic. I want to show him our third victim's picture."

"Okay, Crawford can do that. I want you to grab Greg and Morgan. These pictures don't show visible blood on the floor, but the floor is wood. We may need to pull up a few boards. Have them grab the appropriate tools."

"You got it."

* * *

They took two SUVs back to the crime scene, unloaded the equipment, and went into the first bedroom that had been stripped of wallpaper. Sara mixed the Luminol while the others blacked out the room and set up the lights. When everything was ready, Ibarra sprayed the room with the Luminol. Then Russell switched on the lights. The room lit up. Blood spatter that had been invisible suddenly glowed brilliantly. This room looked just like the original crime scene. The boards had a more muted glow and clearly showed the cleanup efforts that made the blood impossible to see in the normal light. The edges of the boards were easier to see because the glow was a little brighter there.

Russell turned off the lights. "You were right, Sara."

They got pictures of the room with the Luminol blood spatter and then Greg and Ibarra started pulling up the floor boards. They had only torn up a few of the boards when the first of the dried blood pool became visible. Morgan stayed in the room to take pictures as Greg and Ibarra removed the rest of the floor boards. Russell and Sara moved to the second room and started to prep it for the Luminol spray. This process was repeated in the last room as well until they were able to confirm that all three rooms had been used for a murder.

Russell shut off the lights when they finished photographing the Luminol glow in the third room. "What happened in this house?"

"Nothing good." Sara finished packing up the Luminol chemicals. "We may have to check the other abandoned homes too. Just in case."

Ibarra nodded. "I'll do a walk-around to make sure nothing is amiss."

Russell gestured to Greg. "Take Greg with you."

Morgan looked back down the hall at the other bedrooms. "These monsters killed at least six people in this house. Why did no one ever notice? How were these last murders discovered?"

"The 911 call came from a jogger." Sara stood up to help take the blackout curtains down. "The houses on either side are abandoned. And during the day, this neighborhood is almost a ghost town."

"Crawford was telling me about that. The jogger was running a new route when he heard the screams and called it in." Russell folded the curtain. "By the time anyone arrived, the suspects were long gone."

"They take the bodies and clean up before they leave. For some reason, this time was different."

Sara sat down. "Maybe this time they didn't have enough time."

* * *

**A/N: Who is behind these murders? Stay tuned to find out!**


	47. Chapter 47

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank Crazy Aunt Ella and phnxgrl for their reviews. phnxgrl: No, the suspects don't belong to a cartel. This chapter starts a few minutes after the last one left off. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 47

Greg and Ibarra came back while the three who stayed behind processed the first room. "The other houses seemed to be intact from the outside."

Russell stopped what he was doing. "Could you see in the windows?"

"Some. Nothing looks out of place." Greg changed his gloves. "Do we need to remove the boards in the third room?"

"Yeah. Sara and I can handle the processing in this room."

Morgan grabbed her kit and camera. "Got it."

Sara rubbed a swab over part of the wall. "How's Finn?"

"She's good, she's good. Not too happy with her current living situation."

Sara pursed her lips to hide a smile. "Not wanting to live with her boss?"

"Not sure why." Russell had a smile on his lips. "From what I hear, you didn't seem to mind living with yours."

Sara smiled. "Well, we were a couple by then. And he wasn't my boss for long. I had to change shifts when our relationship became public knowledge."

Russell put some wood splinters in a jar. "How did that work out? I feel I still don't know all of you guys very well."

"The shift was fine, but, after what happened to me with the miniature killer, I burned out after a few months. You know me. I don't like to work out my problems with a shrink. As soon as I was able to come back from medical leave, I threw myself into the work. Thing is, I had changed. To coupe with the crimes I saw, I distanced myself from them, which made me not care as much as I usually do and I had to leave for a while." Sara rubbed a different swab over another section of the wall. "When I came back, things were easier."

"I think you and Finn should spend time together. What you've been through, and how you've adjusted to it, I think it'll help her recover. In the hospital, she felt safe. Right now she's putting up a brave face, but I can tell she doesn't feel safe."

"I think what she went through was worse than what happened to me. I was just tasered and trapped under a car, not beaten into a coma. I was able to escape."

"I was talking about the forensics conference."

"Ah." Sara nodded. "I guess that would make sense. I think visiting her in the hospital helped."

"I know it did." Russell stood up. "Whenever I went by, I could tell when you had come by."

"Really?"

"Yeah. After you would visit, Finn would be calmer and the doctors would have better testing sessions. I think she's using your strength to recover. Her confidence was shaken. She doesn't believe in herself the way she used to."

"We need to bring that confidence back." Sara put the labeled and boxed swabs she had collected in the evidence box for this room. "I'll do what I can."

"Thank you." They worked in silence for a few minutes. "So, how's your social life outside the lab?"

Sara avoided looking at Russell. "What's a social life?"

"Sara…"

"Got a print." She dusted along the wall. "Scratch that, I've got a whole handprint."

Russell came over. "That's great."

Sara photographed it and sent it to the lab. "Hopefully we'll get lucky and this is one of our perps."

"That would be great. Why don't you have a social life outside the lab?"

"I'm still looking for a wheelchair modified vehicle I actually want to drive that doesn't cost more than I make in a year and a half. So at this point it's taxis, handicap accessible bus services, or you guys, and I'm not forcing you guys to take me everywhere I want to go. Then there's the fact that I sleep during the day. Any social life I do have is handicapped forums online."

"Fair points. But you are at least chatting with people online?"

"Not much, but yeah. I do talk to our friends in New York from time to time." Sara carefully pulled the large lift from the wall and pressed the cover plate onto it.

"How are they?"

"Good. Lindsay is only in the lab part time now because she wants to spend more time as a mom. She's pregnant again too, so that's part of it. Danny might be looking for a new job soon."

"Mac had mentioned Danny's been looking to become a lab director somewhere. I think he'd be good at it. And it would be a good change for them."

"_Russell!_"

"Wonder what Morgan's got." Russell and Sara went into the third bedroom. The foundation was covered in dried blood. There was far too much in here to be from one person. "Wow."

Morgan nodded. "Either they washed the floor in blood, or more than one person was killed in here."

* * *

It took the rest of the day to process the house. Every surface was dusted for prints, swabbed for epithelials or blood, and sprayed with Luminol to see if blood was anywhere else. There were a few spots that lit up and they were either swabbed or marked and cut out of the carpet to let Henry take a look. By the time they were done, the house would need a remodel, though it might be better to just knock it down and start over.

Hodges, Henry, and Mandy looked at the boxes of evidence coming in and their shoulders dropped. "What did you find?"

"Sara's witness said a few other people were killed in that house. We found evidence there were. We need to see if we can get IDs on the victims or suspects. Mandy, we have a lot of prints. Henry, we have swabs and swatches. Hodges…"

"Work everything else. Got it. Doc's ready with the first victim's report. He might even have the second one done by now."

Russell nodded. "Thanks. Ibarra, you're with me."

"Okay."

Sara followed Hodges to his office. "Has Crawford called back?"

"Oh, yeah. The third victim is one of our suspects. Apparently Solomon Bronchi freaked out when he saw him."

"Huh. Why would they kill a member of their group?"

"Why are they doing any of this?"

Sara nodded. "Fair point."

Hodges set the box he was carrying down. "I looked at the evidence you collected from the exterior of the house. Unfortunately, nothing contains trace from anywhere but that neighborhood. Sorry."

"That might mean the suspects and their victims are all from that area. Or it means they're careful."

"Exactly. Well, I'll get to work on this and get back to you."

"Thanks, Hodges."

* * *

Russell and Ibarra entered the morgue just as Doc finished making the Y incision on the third victim. "What's up, Doc?"

"Just getting started on the third victim. He can wait. I heard he was one of the suspects."

"Yeah. Crawford just texted me. What can you tell us?"

"Victims one and two were both beaten to death, but that was obvious." Doc changed his gloves. "Victim one was the Jane Doe. I've got three different types of bruises. I don't think the crowbar was the only weapon. Take a look."

Russell and Ibarra moved over to the victim. "So we're looking at three weapons."

"That would be my guess. Whatever they used, they hit her and the male victim with enough force to rupture the skin. Those aren't stab wounds."

Ibarra pointed to a couple of the injuries. "Some of these cuts are from the sharp edges of the crowbar though."

"Yes, some of them. Some are from a different weapon. Without a comparison, I can only guess. What I can tell you for sure is that she was beaten off and on for several hours before she died; the male victim too."

Russell shook his head in disgust. "Any idea what kind of tool was used to remove their fingerprints?"

"There's no sign of any serration, so you're looking for a smooth blade. A pocket knife would do the trick."

"Internal injuries?" Ibarra walked over to the second victim.

"Several organs were ruptured; almost all their bones were either fractured or completely broken. I didn't even need to open their skulls because of what the x-rays showed me. If I had to be specific about which injury ultimately killed them, I'd have to pick their heads. These bruises are the only ones that occurred before vital reactions on their bone and skin injuries stopped."

Russell looked at Doc. "They were beaten after they were dead?"

"Without a doubt. Fingerprint removal was post-mortem as well."

"What about the third victim?"

Doc led them over there. "From my external exam, I would say he probably suffered the same amount of injuries, but not over the extended period of time and from only two of the weapons."

Russell nodded and then spoke to the last victim. "What did you do to get beaten by your friends?"

Ibarra turned to Doc. "Have we been able to get IDs yet?"

Doc shook his head. "Not yet. I'm going through dental records and sent blood samples up to Henry for DNA. We should get something back soon."

"You'll let us know when you're done with the third victim?"

"Of course."

"Alright. Thanks, Doc."

"I heard you discovered evidence of other victims who were murdered in that house?"

Russell nodded. "That's right. The house was abandoned about five months ago."

"I'll look through my unsolved John and Jane Doe's, see if any might match these injury patterns."

"Great idea. I'll see you later."

* * *

**Meanwhile...**

Finn sat on her bed taking deep breaths, her eyes squeezed shut. Winthrop was trying to find her. She couldn't see him, and her surroundings were unfamiliar, but the fear was just as powerful. Finn knew this was only in her head, but she couldn't seem to wake up. She was trying to calm her racing heart, trying to dispel the waking nightmare, but it was gripping her too tight. Finn turned a corner and Winthrop's face was in her own.

Finn jumped and bit her tongue to hold in a scream. Her eyes were open now and her breath came in shaky gasps. The waking nightmare was gone, but the fear remained. Finn couldn't speak. She was still wrapped up in the fear. She had to do something to calm her mind. Russell had put her through a few meditation sessions in the hospital and she decided to try that now. She lay down and wrapped herself in the blankets for a feeling of comfort. She breathed in and out, slowly, trying to concentrate on just her breathing. Slowly, Finn was able to relax and calm down.

_Everything takes time to heal. He can't hurt me here_. It might take longer than Finn would like, but she knew she would eventually be able to look up and realize that she'd learned to live with what happened. What happened would always be a part of her. She would never be able to forget what happened, but she would have to learn to accept it as part of her past. She just had to look at Sara. The brunette had been so hurt and angry when she was first paralyzed. Now she was adjusted to it and able to smile again. _She's herself again. I'll get there too_.

* * *

**A/N: In doing research on wheelchair accessible/drivable vehicles, I've discovered that most are either minivans or cars with a $50,000 plus modification later. The average annual salary for a criminalist is $52,000. Average car prices in the U.S. are $20,000 or more. If Sara bought a car and then had it modified for wheelchair driving, she's looking at spending more than $70,000 for a car. That's why she said a car would cost more than she made in a year and a half.**


	48. Chapter 48

**Author's Note: First off, I'd like to apologize for posting this chapter a bit later than usual. My computer died. Don't worry, I have everything I've typed up so far saved on an external hard drive, so you won't have to suddenly wait for chapters. ****Secondly, I'd like to thank a Guest (phnxgrl?) for their review. Guest: I'm trying to make her struggle with PTSD seem realistic, so I'm glad you liked it. This chapter begins after they've returned to the lab from ripping the crime scene up. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 48

Russell spread the photos of the three bedrooms on the layout table, making sure they were separated by room into three different columns. Seeing them side by side, he could tell that some of the bloodstains were sharper than others, giving them a rough idea of the timeline. Luminol reacts with the iron found in the hemoglobin of blood. As time passes, the hemoglobin deteriorates, making the illumination of the Luminol duller.

Ecklie walked in. "So this house has turned into a real house of horrors, I see."

"Yeah." Russell gestured to the photos. "It looks like there were at least seven victims in that house. There may be more."

"Do we have IDs yet?"

"No. Henry and Doc are working on it though. I want Finn to take a look."

Ecklie leaned against the table. "You sure that's a good idea? She just got out of the hospital. Hasn't even said if she wants to come back."

"Well, obviously she'll have to be okay with it. But I would like to ask."

Ecklie mulled it over. "Okay, but she isn't told this is an active case. As far as she's concerned, this is a closed case. We tell her it's a test the doctors wouldn't be able to analyze because they don't understand the science. That way she's able to relax if she agrees to it."

"Understood. She may figure it all out, you know."

"I know. I just don't want to intentionally add any stress to her recovery."

"Thank you. I'll ask her when I get home."

* * *

Russell shut the door to his home and sighed, looking around. He missed Barbara. She had been becoming more and more unhappy with living in Las Vegas for a while and when Finn was attacked by one half of the team who had threatened their daughter's life back in Seattle, she had no longer felt safe and pleaded with him to retire and return to the city they'd left. Russell had been unable to tear himself from Finn's beside and had refused to leave until she got better. Barbara couldn't handle that and filed for divorce.

He couldn't blame her. He had made a decision that put his wants before the needs of his wife and she had responded. Their kids mostly lived in Seattle, that was where she wanted to be, and he just hadn't been able to leave the lab here. Turned out he was right to stay. Finn would have been taken off life support if he hadn't fought Karen Finlay on it. Finn would be dead now if he had left. But was it really right for him to end their marriage? Well, of course it was. Barbara was no longer happy with him, and as much as he missed and loved her, she had needed this, so he was going to have to accept that their divorce was his fault and move on.

Russell looked at the stairs. Right now, Finn was the one who needed help. Living here, where she knew she had his support and friendship close at hand, would help but to truly get over a traumatic experience like that was going to take time and professional help. He could give her the time and space to deal with her PTSD, but the professional help was going to have to come from somewhere else. There were a number of good therapists he could call on for help. The biggest question was if she would even accept going with one of them. _I'll let her get settled in first; that question can wait_.

"Finn? Are you upstairs?"

The stairs creaked and Finn came down. "I thought I heard you come in."

"How are you doing?"

"Can everyone stop asking me that?"

"Sorry."

Finn headed for the kitchen. "I'm okay. Not great."

"Sara's wanting to drop in to see you from time to time. Is that okay?"

"Sure, anyone can. I just…"

The wind picked up momentarily and a tree branch scrapped against the window, making a thumping and screeching sound. Finn jumped and gasped as her body stiffening for a moment. She shuddered as she exhaled, her eyes closing for a moment before she was able to relax again. Russell watched, questioning his desire to have her look at a bloody crime scene so soon after her release from the hospital.

Finn shook her head. "I just want a call beforehand so I can be ready for it."

"Sounds reasonable." Russell sat at the table. "I wanted to ask you something."

"I don't know yet."

"What?"

"I don't know if I can come back to the lab. The idea of throwing myself into that environment again scares me right now."

"I understand. Which makes my question seem insensitive. Ecklie and I have a test we'd like you to do if you decide to come back. It's a closed case, so there's no pressure."

"You want to see if I'm still the 'Blood Whisperer,' right?"

"Right. I just wanted to give you a heads up." Russell grabbed an apple from the basket in the middle of the table.

Finn grabbed the juice from the fridge. "Thanks, I guess. I'll have to think about it."

"Of course." Russell stood. "I'm hungry. Oatmeal sounds good."

Finn put the juice back in the fridge. "I hope you have more somewhere. I finished a box off this morning."

"I'll check the garage."

* * *

Henry found Russell as soon as he came in that night. "I have IDs on some of the victims."

"Great. Who are they?"

Henry brought him into the layout room. "In bedroom one, the victim is Jessica Gardner. African-American, 41; she went missing four months ago. Greg and Ibarra went to talk to her family. In bedroom two the victim was Abraham Weinrab. Caucasian, 62; he went missing just over three months ago. Sara and Morgan are talking to his wife."

Russell looked at the two pictures Henry had set down. "So, race and age are not determining factors in choosing their victims."

"And that continues. Bedroom three had two victims. The third victim was Zhen Fu, Chinese-American, 33; went missing two and a half months ago. The fourth victim, also in bedroom three, was David Nguyen. He was Vietnamese, and just turned eighteen four days before he went missing a month ago."

"So there was a month and a half between two of the victims. Why? It was two and a half weeks before that."

Henry shrugged. "Solomon Bronchi was arrested for trespassing not long after the third victim's death. Maybe they were afraid the house was too hot."

"Maybe." Russell looked up from the victim's pictures. "We have these DNA samples from the missing persons' cases?"

"Yeah. The last three still don't have hits in the system and I found another blood sample in bedroom two. I don't know if it belongs to another victim or one of the killers, but I do know it doesn't match any of the Doe's in the morgue."

"Okay. Thanks you, Henry."

As Henry went out, Mandy came in. "I have a name for the victim- slash- suspect. The handprint Sara found matches his."

"How is that? His fingerprints were removed."

"Because I'm that good. Palms are almost as unique and distinctive as fingerprints. Here, I had Doc print the victims' hands." Mandy placed Sara's lift next to a card Doc had given her.

"I see. So, what's his name?"

"Jesus Estobar, 18. He was arrested twice for Drug Possession with Intent to Sell starting two years ago. He was sent to juvie for the second offense and got out eight months ago." She handed Russell the file.

"He goes from drug possession to kidnapping and brutal murders in less than three years. That's quite the jump." Russell opened the file to see Estobar's mug shot. "Yeah, that's him. Gang affiliation?"

"It's possible. There's nothing in his file about it."

"Thanks, Mandy." Russell went over Estobar's file, but like Mandy had said, it was a thin file. He had been arrested while selling drugs in an alley just blocks from The Strip but, because he had been a minor at the time, he went to juvie until he was eighteen. Minors were sometimes used to move or sell drugs because sentences were usually lighter. He must have been connected to a gang even if his file was empty.

Ecklie came in. "I heard you got some IDs."

"Yeah, including one of the suspects. Jesus Estobar; he's one of the John Does. He was just a kid."

"He's the reason I'm here. Detective Smithson in the Narcotics unit just informed me that he'd lost contact with one of his C.I.'s. Said he got out of juvie less than a year ago and had agreed to go undercover in a dealer's crew to get his record expunged."

"Estobar was the informant?"

Ecklie nodded. "Smithson said Estobar had failed to get into the dealer's crew, but that he claimed to have found something better, and might not be able to make contact for a while. That was six months ago."

"Does Smithson have anything?"

"No, Estobar never contacted him after that. All I know is that Estobar may have hidden information at home. You guys might want to check that out. I've got a warrant on the way for you."

* * *

Estobar's last known address was a bust. The building had burned down a month ago and was still just the shell of a building. The locals in the area wouldn't talk to the cops and Russell returned to the lab empty handed. The uniforms who had gone with him had decided to stay there and knock on more doors, just in case someone would talk to them.

Sara was waiting for Russell when he went back to his office. "Finn called."

"Really? What about?"

"She wants to know how much help you need with this case and asked why you told her it was already closed."

"That was fast." Russell sat at his desk. "I told Ecklie she would figure it out." He looked at Sara. "I wanted her to take a look at the crime scene and maybe help us figure out what weapons were used. He wanted to de-stress the process and asked me to say it was closed."

"I see." She backed her chair up. "Well, what are you going to do?"

"I do want her to take a look at the initial crime scene, but only if she's willing to."

Sara rolled forward again. "Are you sure that's the best thing for her?"

Russell sighed. "No, but that's why it's her choice. I'm hoping she will help though. Ibarra tried the sims and hasn't been able to recreate the results. We need help. She's the best at her specialty and I can't think of anything else to do."

"I don't think going to the crime scene is a good idea for her… but… maybe we can bring the scene here."

"Recreate the results and have her tell us how it was done."

Sara nodded. "There's a warehouse we've used for that sort of thing when the garage wasn't big enough. We can go over there and set everything up while we wait for the evidence to finish processing."

"That's a good idea. Let's do it. I'll call Finn when everything is ready."

Sara backed up again to leave the room. "Call her now. Let's not set things up for nothing."

Russell watched Sara leave and then pulled his phone out of his pocket. "Finn, it's me."

"_I know the case isn't closed. Why did you lie to me?_"

"That was Ecklie's idea. And you're right to think we need a lot of help to figure out what really happened. We've already tried to recreate the results, but it hasn't worked."

Finn sighed. "_I don't know, D.B._"

"If you don't want to, I don't blame you. This is entirely up to you."

The line was quiet for a few moments. "_I'm willing to look at pictures, but not go to the crime scene. I don't think going to the scene would be a good idea._"

"What if we set up something that lets you see the crime scene without actually being there?"

"_That would be better. I don't know how much better._"

"Well, it sounds like we're on the same wavelength at least." Russell took a deep breath. "I'll have Sara help me set things up. Give us a couple hours. I'll come get you when it's all ready."

"_Okay. No promises, D.B. If I can't look at it, I'm walking out._"

"I understand. See you soon, Jules."

Finn groaned and hung up the phone. Russell smirked and sent Sara a text. "_Let's set it up._"

* * *

**A/N: I'm working on developing a new fanfiction series and I have characters who have a couple conversations in French. I've used Google translate to put the words in French, but I would like someone who speaks French to take a look and let me know if it actually is a believable conversation. In another story I posted, I had an interview in Spanish that I used Google translate on and I was told it was very formal and unrealistic. If anyone can help with French, PM me and I will send you the conversation. As for this story, what will Finn do when she sees the crime scene? Stay tuned to find out!**


	49. Chapter 49

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank phnxgrl for her review. This chapter starts a couple hours after the last one ended. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 49

Finn walked into the warehouse with a sigh of relief. This was a lot better than going to the real crime scene. She could tell that a lot of effort had gone into setting this up. The den crime scene had been built in the middle of the warehouse. At least she assumed the room Hodges was standing next to, alongside Ecklie, was the den. It looked like three other rooms had been put together as well.

Morgan and Sara came out of one of the other rooms. "Hey, Finn," the blonde hugged her friend. "Are you ready for this?"

"Nope. Let's get it over with. What's going on?"

"There were a few other crime scenes in the same house. All within the last few months." Sara engaged her breaks. "We've got those pictures here as well. I think the den is the best scene for getting started."

"One at a time, okay?" Finn turned to Ecklie with a playful smirk on her face as he and Hodges approached. "Liar."

"Yeah, sorry about that. I was trying to avoid placing unnecessary pressure on you."

"You should know I'm smarter than that. I mean, I just got out of the hospital. A couple days later, I'm being asked to look at an 'old' crime scene? The timing doesn't work out."

"Point taken."

Russell came up behind her. "Are you ready?"

"Not really."

Russell nodded. "Just take your time."

Finn shook her head with a sigh. "Everyone's making it seem like I'm going to die."

Hodges shrugged. "I keep telling them that. They turn it around and say I'm a heartless bastard when I'm not asking how you are all the time. Or when I say you're just fine."

Finn smiled. "See? Hodges gets me."

Russell smiled. "Get in there, then."

Finn stepped into the room. Blood was everywhere. If Jackson Pollock had painted with blood, this could have been one of his masterpieces. Three simulation bodies had been placed on the floor, but no blood was on them. The walls were large prints of the photos of the crime scene's walls, allowing Finn to see the scene without needing to actually be there. Even the ceiling was here. She could only assume the bodies were where they'd been originally.

Finn took a deep breath. "You guys did a good job with this."

Russell stayed in the doorway. "We're hoping you can help us narrow down the weapons used."

"Mm-hm." Finn could feel the adrenaline pulsing through her body as flashbacks of Winthrop's attack played. The knock on the door, the way he pushed her down when she opened the door without looking through the peephole. Pain. Blood in her eyes. Calling for help and getting kicked in the stomach until she couldn't breathe. Finn's breathing sped up and she forced herself to take deep, calming ones.

Ecklie was standing next to Russell. "She shouldn't be doing this."

The nightmare left her and she was able to concentrate on her job. This wasn't her blood on the walls. She looked closer and noticed that the blood had been labeled. Victim one had tiny blue tags, victim two had tiny green tags, and victim three, the suspect, had tiny black tags. Finn's body began to relax as she slipped into an old familiar rhythm. This is what she was good at.

Ecklie shrugged as he watched Finn get to work. "I take it back. She looks like the Finn we know right now."

"I know she can do this." Russell turned to Ecklie. "I just want to keep an eye on her while she does."

Finn moved around the room, examining the blood, markers, and body positions as she did. She allowed herself to get into the analytic trance she had when she worked a scene like this. Most people saw blood and could only guess how it got there. Finn could read it. She could almost seem to rewind time and envision how the blood had been splattered on the wall. At Frank's Restaurant, she had known where that finger had ended up without seeing the victim's hand first to notice the missing finger.

The blood from the first and second victims was overlapping in places. Some of victim one's blood was on top of the blood from victim two. As she looked at the spatter, Finn could see each blow as it landed. She saw the spray and castoff of a blow from a weapon with a round head, the directional spray and drips of a blow from a weapon with a round shaft, and the curving spatter from a fisherman's gaff.

Finn closed her eyes. _No, not a gaff, a crowbar_. Finn took another deep breath to once again get her own attack out of her mind. She opened her eyes and looked closer at the blood from the round headed weapon. The round headed weapon left castoff on the ceiling and thin streaks with spatter and thin drips after impact with the wall. She walked up to the wall with the most of this type of spatter and looked at it closely.

_This was made with a hammer._ The streaks were thicker than they would be if they were made with a mallet and the spatter showed that the speed the blood hit the wall at was faster than a mallet would have been. The spatter told her that the head of the hammer had a lot of weight on it. But which kind? She'd have to look at the pictures of the victims. She turned to the blood from the weapon with a round shaft. From the shape of the blood spatter, she could tell it was from a baseball bat. She needed more information here as well.

She turned to Russell. "Are there pictures of the victims?"

"Over this way." Russell pushed off the door frame and led her to a table. The crime scene and post autopsy photos were grouped by victim to show the injuries clearly.

"Did Doc have a guess what the weapons were?"

"He couldn't be specific. He said three different weapons. One was the crowbar, one was able to create cutting type wounds and the amount of force used ruptured the skin more often than it cut."

"I got that far with the blood." Finn looked over the pictures, comparing the shots Doc or David had taken with the ones from the crime scene. She looked at the first victim, holding pictures up and looking at the images side by side. Cuts with depth that weren't from the crowbar's edge were one inch wide or slightly wider, indicating a claw style hammer was one of the weapons. The large bruises from the bat helped her to figure out what it was made out of as well.

Finn picked up some photos of the female victim's face from the crime scene and suddenly she was looking into her own face. The woman was blonde and covered in blood. Finn felt her heart begin to race again and she took some deep breaths, trying to regain control of her emotions. It wasn't working. Winthrop was coming. She could feel it. He was getting closer and Finn was frozen in fear. _No, he's not winning; my mind is in charge here_. Finn dropped the pictures and walked away from the table.

"I got it." Sara stopped Russell in his tracks and followed Finn. "You good?"

Finn's neck muscles flexed and relaxed as she worked to calm herself. "The woman, she looked like me. I just saw myself." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'm okay. I just had to step away for a bit."

"I know the feeling."

Finn nodded. "I remember Nick telling me about that. The Miniature Killer. How did you get over this... fear?"

"I went to Costa Rica with a research team. And then I got married and spent some time in Paris with my husband."

"Oh," Finn smiled, "you took a break."

"Not right away, but yeah. Everyone's different though. Nick was buried alive and he came right back to work; never had a problem with it. Well, I guess that's not entirely true. He was claustrophobic, taphophobic, and cleithrophobic for a few months. We had a case in an underground bunker a couple months after his ordeal and I could tell he was struggling with that one a bit."

"I guess I'm just impatient."

"We all are, especially when we want life to go back to the way it was before. Things will get better. You just have to give it time. I know. I've been there. I'm still there sometimes. I mean, this chair is great, but I miss my independence. I miss my legs. But, I have at least gotten to a point where I accept this is my life now. What happened to me will always be a part of me. What happened to you will always be a part of you. The trick is learning how to move on."

"Thanks, Sara."

"You're welcome."

Finn looked back at Russell, Ecklie, Hodges, and Morgan, who were talking among themselves, and squared her shoulders. "Let's get this over with."

Finn returned to the table. The rest of the group stepped back to let her work. She worked on the photos of the second victim, comparing the bruising and cuts he had with those of the first victim. As long as Finn didn't look at the face of the female victim, she didn't have another flashback. She also was fairly confident that she knew what weapons the killers used. To be sure though, she turned to look at the suspect/victim.

Russell moved to stand next to Sara. "I told you that you calm her. What happened?"

"The female victim reminded her of Winthrop attacking her."

"Right. The blood and blonde hair."

Sara nodded. "She needs time."

Russell was about to speak when Finn looked up. "I think I know the weapons."

Everyone gathered around. "What are they?"

"I can't say which brand, but one of the weapons appears to be claw style hammer, and the other is an aluminum baseball bat."

"How do you know its aluminum?" Ecklie picked up a couple photos.

"There were no splinters. A beating this savage would damage the bat and cause splinters to be left behind in the victims, especially if it was used in as many murders in that house as I've heard. Also, despite having a metallic exterior, an aluminum bat's hollow interior gives the bat more give. The bruises reflect that."

Russell pulled out his phone. "Doc just texted. The bruises from the cylindrical object probably came from an aluminum bat. Good eye, Finn."

"Thank you."

Ecklie set the photo down. "Okay, so we know what the murder weapons were. Do you agree with Doc's order of beatings?"

"I do not. The first two victims were beaten simultaneously."

"How do you know?"

"The blood." Finn led the group back into the room. "Where is it? I see it. This mock-up has the blood labeled by contributor. Over here, victim one's blood was on top of victim two's blood."

"I thought they were mixed together," Russell gestured to the wall, "when the second victim was beaten."

"No, look." Finn gestured to the blood. "This stripe is the second victim's blood. It is slightly darker than this stripe, which is the first victim's blood. She did die first, but the beating began around the same time for them."

Morgan nodded. "That makes sense. There were three attackers. No way to escape."

Russell turned to Finn. "Any way to tell how tall the suspects were?"

"No. By the fifth blow, the victims would be kneeling or curled in a fetal position. They would be trying to protect their bodies as much as they could."

"And their attackers would be bending over to hit them more easily. They would be closer to my height than their true heights." Sara gestured to herself with a smirk. She was 5'9" tall standing, but, now that she was in the wheelchair, she was much lower to the ground.

"Right, right, so the castoff would lie for the most part." Russell turned around in the room. "If you had to guess…"

Finn looked at the walls again. "Between the length of the various weapons and the mostly low position of the spatter, I don't know. Between 5'5" and 6'3". That's the best I can do."

"Well, it's a start. I'll take you back home."

"What about the other rooms?"

"Those are for the team to try and recreate the crime scene. With your help, I think we'll be able to do it."

Ecklie stepped forward. "Thanks for your help. I'm hoping you can get back to the lab soon. When you're ready, of course."

"Thanks. We'll see." She shook his hand.

"Of course."

Russell walked beside Finn as they returned to the car. "Thank you for doing this. This helps a lot. I- I know you're hating this question, but how are you now?"

"It was hard at first, seeing the blood. I remembered more of the attack. You asked me once how he got in. He knocked on the door and I opened it without looking out of the peephole. You had just texted, so I think I assumed it was you. After that, all I can see is flashes."

"Was one moment clearer than the others?"

"I called for help. But he kicked me till I couldn't breathe. I don't remember when it happened." Finn climbed in the car and buckled in with a sigh. "I feel like I need to remember it all so I can finally move on."

"Let's take it one day at a time for now." Russell started the car. "I'll be there to help you. So are all your friends."

"I know. I'm glad I have them in my corner."

* * *

**A/N: Claustrophobia is fear of confined spaces, taphophobia is fear of being buried alive, and cleithrophobia is fear of being trapped or locked in enclosed spaces. Stay tuned for more!**


	50. Chapter 50

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank Crazy Aunt Ella, phnxgrl, and VegasGirl09 for their reviews. Before we begin, an important note:**

**I'm starting this chapter with a flashback to the night Finn was attacked by Paul Winthrop. This is my take on what happened based on the injuries it appeared Finn had suffered when she was found in the trunk during "The End Game". In my opinion, the italics portion gets into the M rating territory because of graphic violence, even though the rest of my writing for this story is in line with the show, which would be a T rating. I don't want to change the rating for this whole story for just half a chapter, so if you don't want to read something that might be M rated, just skip the italics and go from there. Good? Then, without further ado, enjoy!**

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Chapter 50

_Finn was tired. The drive from San Diego had been long with weekend gamblers and vacationers clogging up the highway and slowing everything down. She was also depressed and scared. Shaw was dead, Colin Winthrop was in the hospital fighting to live and she was being sidelined. Yes, she needed sleep, but Paul Winthrop was still out there. There was no way she'd be able to sleep while he was running around trying to kill her. Finn parked her car, grabbed her purse, and went up to her apartment._

_She unlocked the door, went inside and locked the door behind her, setting her purse on the entryway dresser. She then went into the kitchen and put a kettle of water on the stove. While she waited for the water to boil, she went and found some clean clothes. She went to throw what she'd been wearing into the clothes hamper and she noticed, once again, that blood was on them. Shaw's blood. Finn sighed. If Shaw was here, they would be grabbing a beer and toasting to the arrest of an elusive fugitive._

_But that victory beer was never to be. Because of Winthrop, by now Shaw was lying in a drawer or on a table in the morgue. Finn threw on her blood-free outfit and returned to the kitchen. She grabbed a mug out of the cupboard and opened a tea packet, draping the string over the edge of her mug. She mentally thanked Shaw again for saving her life. The kettle whistled and she carefully poured the boiling water over the tea bag before retreating to the couch and sitting down, setting her mug on the coffee table._

_A few minutes later her tea was ready and she was leaning back into the couch when she had a thought: Shaw's daughter. Finn sat up, took a sip of tea, and picked up her phone. She found his daughter's grandmother's number in her contacts list and hit dial. Part of her wanted the answering machine to answer so she could simply leave a message and not worry about it for a few hours. That wish was dashed when the phone was answered after just one ring._

"_Hello?"_

_Finn tried to stay calm and collected. "Hi, Mrs. Devlin. My name's Julie Finlay. I work with the Las Vegas Police Department. Uh, I need to speak with your granddaughter, Amy." Finn's voice caught for a moment and she quickly recovered. "It's about her dad."_

_Telling Mrs. Devlin what had happened was hard enough. Telling Amy was worse. Finn went through her own gambit of emotions of what it felt like to lose a former co-worker, friend, suspect and savior. She had to struggle to tell Amy what had happened without breaking down in sobs. Amy was shocked, angry, sad and every emotion in between. She went from telling Finn she would never forgive her for taking her dad where he had been in danger to apologizing minutes later and saying she was glad her dad had tried to redeem himself before his death. The whole experience was draining. She hung up and leaned back on the couch again._

_A knock on the door woke her up. In her pocket, her phone buzzed with a text. She checked her phone and saw that Russell had told her to pack a bag so they could go to Seattle. He must have changed his mind about sidelining her. The knock on the door sounded more impatient and Finn checked the time on her phone. She'd been asleep for over an hour. She stood up and took the now cold tea with her, setting it on the counter as she went to the door._

_Russell knocked again. "Finn…"_

_Finn unlocked the door and started to open it. "Sorry, Russell. I was asleep…" She looked up and saw Winthrop._

_He shoved the door farther open as she tried to close it and she was knocked back by the force. "Hello, Julie."_

"_Hel-uph!" Winthrop hit Finn in the stomach with the gaff as she started to call for help. She doubled over, coughing and trying to get air back into her lungs. He grabbed her under the chin to shove her against the breakfast bar, holding her there. The door had been kicked shut and he dropped the gaff to grab something out of his pocket. Finn slammed her fists against opposing sides of his arm and he released her throat. His other hand curled into a fist and he punched her in the gut before grabbing her around the throat again and shoving a loose ball of fabric into her mouth, making it hard for her to call for help._

_He was in a gloating mood. "I'm glad Shaw threw himself in front of you today. It tied up a loose end and now, I get to take my time with you. A bullet would have been too quick. Don't get me wrong, it still would have been satisfying, but not the same."_

_Finn brought her knee up, trying to hit him in the groin, but he must have been anticipating that because he was standing far enough back to avoid it. He smiled savagely and threw her to the ground. She hit the dresser first, knocking some things off of it. Winthrop picked up the gaff, opened the door, grabbed a bag, and closed the door again, locking it behind him. Finn started working on getting the gag out of her mouth._

"_Let's get started." He opened the bag and took out some crime scene markings, followed by a handful of colored strings. "Do you mind if I use your counter here? No? Good."_

_Finn got the fabric out of her mouth. "Help!" She started to stand. "Fire!"_

_Winthrop spun around and swung the gaff into her torso again. "Shut up!"_

_Finn was knocked off balance into the dresser again. Her purse fell off this time and Finn grabbed it to get her gun. Winthrop kicked her in her stomach and Finn dropped her bag. He kicked her again and again. Finn curled up to try and protect herself while one hand dug in her bag for the gun. She grabbed it and pulled it out, but Winthrop kicked it out of her hand. The gun clattered across the floor, out of reach._

_Finn tried to go after it, but Winthrop used the gaff on her left side. She felt a couple ribs break and her breathing became difficult. Now that she thought about it, breathing had been hard before that because he'd knocked the wind out of her. He kicked her in the stomach again and Finn stopped struggling. Breathing was near impossible and she hurt everywhere._

_Winthrop went back to the counter. "That's better." He untied the twine around the strings and laid them out flat, keeping them separated by color. The markers were spread out for easier access and her tea mug was placed in the sink so it was out of the way. Some of the items she'd knocked over were moved to a slightly different placement and he picked up her gun, tucking it into the back of his pants. He also found her phone and placed it on the counter so he could see it._

_Finn could barely speak. "What… do you… want?"_

"_What do I want? I want you dead. But I want to enjoy it. Savor it. I want to watch as the lights leave your eyes. I want you to know what I felt when my brother was taken from me. Before you die, believe me, you'll know. And Russell will know too. I saw your phone. I know he's on his way. That's a pity. It means I don't have as much time as I wanted. But he'll know. He'll know how it felt for me as soon as he sees what I've done to this apartment. To you. That's what I want."_

_Finn knew she had to get out of there. She tried to move, but the left side of her chest screamed in pain and she groaned. At least two ribs were broken, her abs were bruised at best, and there was probably more damage as well. She struggled to inhale. Winthrop turned and looked down at her, slowly crouching next to her. She kicked with everything she had and he fell to his left, but he quickly recovered and punched her in the nose._

_"You stupid bitch!" He punched her in the nose a couple more times and Finn felt it break. Blood streamed down her face, but Winthrop didn't stop. He grabbed the gaff again and stood up, swinging the weapon at her. She threw her arms up to stop it, but it made contact with her arms and kept going, hitting her left cheek and opening the skin a little. He swung it again. The gaff missed her face, but she felt the hook catch the skin at the center of her chest._

_He swung again and the gaff hit her arm with more force, enough to make it feel like her arm was broken. She screamed in pain and called out Russell's name. Winthrop swung the gaff again. Finn could see it coming and she twisted to avoid it. Her left side went numb and she started coughing up blood. Winthrop was swinging his chosen weapon again. The gaff was coming for her head. She was powerless to stop it._

Finn bolted upright in bed, her breath coming in gasps. She remembered. All the flashes had come together and formed a whole picture. She knew some of the flashes she'd seen before tonight were after the gaff made contact with her head, but that was when she was fading in and out of consciousness. Finn got out of bed and went to the desk where her notebook lived. She'd been recording the flashes she remembered as they came, even if it had been a repeat of one she'd seen before. Now it was time to write down everything.

* * *

**Meanwhile...**

Russell had dropped Finn off at home and returned to the warehouse by the time his team was ready to show him their reconstructions. Sara had opted to watch from the doorways so as to not get fake blood on her chair, but when he arrived she was trying to get some out of her hair. Hodges and Morgan were wearing coveralls and were covered in red splotches. Russell wanted to find out what happened.

"You got started without me?"

"They did. I was supervising until they went after me with the bloodied weapons." Sara gave up on her hair. "I think seeing Finn made them a little happy-go-lucky. How is she doing?"

"Rattled, but okay. What do we have?"

"Finn was spot on for the weapons. Check it out." Sara propelled herself forward to the first room. "Aluminum bat and Stanley crowbar. The hammer was harder to get just right."

Hodges held one up. "This one seems to be the closest."

"Okay. So we have the murder weapons and know that the first two victims were beaten at the same time, but the woman died well before the man. Where are we on IDs for them?"

"Henry didn't get any matches." Morgan stepped out of the coverall. "He ran the DNA through every database he had access to, twice, but still nothing."

Russell nodded. "Okay, okay. Start cleaning this up. I'll see if Doc got lucky on dental records." He went back to the lab and down to the morgue after a brief stop in the layout room. "Hey, Doc. Do we have IDs for John and Jane Doe?"

"Not yet. I'm running the program now. Shouldn't be too much longer," the computer beeped. "Looks like I got something."

"Good timing." Russell followed Doc to the computer.

"Let's see. It looks like they are husband and wife. Jasper and Allisson Mason from Arizona. Oh, damn. They got married on Saturday. Looks like they were here on their honeymoon."

"That's just tragic." Russell shook his head. "We need to figure out how these guys are hunting for their targets."

"I wish I could help with that. Good luck."

"Thanks. Can you send that info to me?"

Doc nodded and Russell returned to the lab. He went to his office and printed out the information for the victims and then added it to the layout room. He looked over what the team had been able to gather about the other victims. Greg and Ibarra had talked to the families of Jessica Garner and Zhen Fu while Sara and Morgan had spoken to the families of Abraham Weinrab and David Nguyen. It looked like they'd all gotten some good information.

Russell spread the note pages out on the table. Gardner had left home to go shopping at the grocery store five miles from the crime scene and never returned. Weinrab had gone for a walk around his neighborhood, which was across Vegas from their crime scene; until today, his wife had feared he'd had a heart attack and died alone where no one had found him when he didn't return. Zhen Fu had left work to go to lunch, but he never returned despite the fact that his car was still in the lot when police were called. Nguyen had left home on his bike to attend WLVU; his bike was recovered on campus, but there had been no sign of David.

Russell had put a map up on one of the boards before he went to see Doc and he now started to put markers on the map of the locations the victims were last seen. This group, whoever they were, seemed to be very comfortable in the Las Vegas area at large. None of the victims had been taken from the same area in the city twice, which might explain why the abductions had gone so long without connections being made. The problem was, how many more abductions and murders had this group done?

Greg walked in. "We have IDs?"

"Yeah. A couple on their honeymoon. Police in their home town are making the notifications and asking questions. I want you and Sara to look at their hotel room when she's back."

"They all just got back."

"Okay, good. Grab her and head out."

"Okay." Greg left the layout room and found Sara. "Hey, Russell wants us to check out the hotel room the couple was staying in."

"We have IDs?"

"Yeah, and I have the address."

* * *

Greg pulled up outside the Mediterranean and helped Sara out of the SUV. "Does this feel weird?"

"A little." Sara buckled the straps around her legs. "Let's go."

They went inside and one of the employees at the desk recognized Sara. "Excuse me? Were you at the forensic conference hosted here almost two years ago?"

"Yes, I was."

"I remember seeing you when the paramedics brought you out. Is this…" She suddenly looked embarrassed.

"Is this wheelchair because of that?" Sara finished the question and the employee nodded, her face bright red in embarrassment. "Yes, it is. We need to see the manager in charge; if you could point us in the right direction, that would be great."

"I'm sorry for being rude. Please don't report me." She looked terrified.

"I don't need to talk to a manager about that. I mean, after all, you meant to say I look a lot better now than I did when I was wheeled out, right?"

"Yes, you really do. Um, he's probably in his office. I'll call him down."

"Thank you." Sara turned to Greg. "Did I look that bad?"

"I didn't see you get brought out, but from what Nick, Finn, and Morgan said, yeah. Morgan said you were covered in blood and your skin was grey by the time you arrived at the hospital. She would've thought you were dead if the EMTs weren't working so hard to keep you alive."

"Huh. I guess I never thought about it."

"An image like that wouldn't be easy to forget." Greg nodded his head toward a man in a suit coming toward them. "I'm guessing that's the manager."

"You're probably right." Sara rolled forward and the manager extended his hand, which she shook. "I'm CSI Sidle, this is CSI Sanders. We have a warrant to search the room the Masons were staying in. Jasper and Allisson, they were newlyweds."

"What did they do?"

Greg stepped forward. "They were murdered."

The manager was shocked. "Here? I would have heard about that."

"No, somewhere else." Sara handed him the warrant. "We're hoping their room can tell us why."

The manager glanced at the warrant. "Of course. I'll have someone take you there."

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**A/N: Merry Christmas everybody. Stay tuned!**


	51. Chapter 51

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank phnxgrl for her review. This chapter starts right after the last one left off. Enjoy!**

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Chapter 51

The Masons had been staying in the honeymoon suite. Their room reflected the newly married life. Clothes were strewn in a trail from the door to the bed, a bottle of champagne was in an ice bucket next to the bed, and romantic music was playing. Greg shut off the CD player and the room went quiet. Sara carefully moved around the trail of clothes in case they became evidence.

Greg touched the champagne bottle. "It's warm. And the ice is melted."

"This suite almost looks like they were here when they were taken. A 'Do Not Disturb' sign was on the door. Housekeeping hasn't been in here to disturb anything."

Greg turned to the security guard who's accompanied them. "We'll need a record of all entries and the camera footage from this floor and the elevators."

"My boss is already working on getting that for you."

"Good. Thank you." Greg started photographing the room.

Sara was already taking pictures. "This doesn't feel right. The room looks like a romantic evening of passion. Clothing trail, music, champagne; but they were taken and beaten to death. It doesn't fit." She snapped a photo of the stereo.

"I know what you mean. And they were clothed in outfits that were coordinated and fashionable when they were found. If they were enjoying each other's company here and forced to dress before they left, the clothing would be chaotic."

"Yeah." Sara started dusting the stereo for prints. "I've got a partial. Let's hope this is from one of the killers."

Greg had his flashlight out. "You think this scene is staged?"

Sara pressed the lift closed. "Maybe."

"How'd Finn do with the reconstruction?"

"Okay. She had a couple moments when the parallels to her attack were pretty strong, but she got through it."

"Good. Maybe she will come back to the lab."

"Maybe." They lapsed into silence as they processed the room, only speaking to point out something they'd found. The reality was that there wasn't much in the room that pointed to a motive or killers. Sara and Greg bagged the trail of clothes to test for DNA and a uniform was posted at the door until the victim's families could come and claim the belongings. The footage and entry log was given to the CSIs and they returned to the lab.

Russell met them as they entered the lab. "Did you find something?"

"No cellphones in the hotel room, but the room looked like it was staged. We don't see the couple being abducted when they're in the middle of a romantic evening with no chaos present in the room."

Sara held up the time logs. "I was going to go over the footage and time logs to see if anything out of the ordinary happened. I also have a print for Mandy to run."

"Good. Good, get to it."

Sara rolled down the hallway to the A/V room. She got the footage set up on the screens with each camera of the floor on its own screen. She then went over the time codes for each time the door to the honeymoon suite was opened and watched the footage from around that same time. Each time the door was opened, it was one half of the couple, both of them, or housekeeping. It was the final time code that caught her eye.

She pulled out her phone. "Hey, Russell, I might have something."

* * *

**Meanwhile...**

Finn couldn't sleep. She'd finished recording the flashback that had woken her up, but now she couldn't go back to sleep. At first she'd thought it was because of the fear, but the adrenaline rush from that was gone now. Perhaps she couldn't go back to sleep because she'd woke up from the dream and then stayed up to write in that journal. That was a possibility, though Finn didn't think that was it.

If she was honest with herself, she was awake right now because it was dark out. With everything she was going through at the moment, Finn had to be honest with herself right now. She was afraid to go back to work, not because she feared what she'd see, but because she might appear weak in front of everyone. But, if she was completely honest, she wanted to return to the lab. The reconstruction from earlier made her realize just how much she would miss it if she retired.

Finn got back out of bed and dug sweatpants and a sweatshirt out of the drawer. She dressed in the dark and slipped out of her room, down the hallway and downstairs. There was a notepad and pen by the phone. Finn saw it and decided to leave a note for Russell in case he came back to check on her in the middle of the night. She quickly wrote the note and slipped back upstairs to put it on her bed. Back downstairs, Finn slipped out the back door, using the key hidden under a planter nearby to lock it up.

She started jogging down the street, the hood of her sweatshirt up over her head. She was out of shape. Four months in a coma and one month as a guinea pig to head injury specialists had taken her fitness level down a lot. She'd done what she could while in physical therapy or confined to her room, and some of her physical strength had returned, but she needed to do more. Running, though not her favorite exercise, was a good start to improve her conditioning.

Behind her, a siren chirped and lights flashed. Finn slowed to a stop and turned around. A uniform got out of the passenger side. "Hands up!"

Finn raised her hands. "You gotta be kidding me."

* * *

**Meanwhile...**

Russell walked into the A/V room. "What'd you find?"

"The last time the hotel door was opened before Greg and I arrived was while we were at the crime scene." Sara pressed play. "Look at the people at the door."

"Two Hispanic males."

"Now, obviously we can't see what they did inside, but when they left, they put the 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the door. Without using gloves."

Russell looked at Sara. "Do we have the sign?"

"Yeah. Over on the table."

Russell walked to the table. "Did you dust it yet?"

Sara came over. "Not yet."

Russell put on a pair of gloves and dusted the sign. A couple prints showed up on the front. Sara had stood up and took photographs of the prints. Russell lifted and labeled the prints and then turned the sign around. He dusted the sign's back where a few more prints showed up. Sara photographed these as well and then Russell lifted and labeled these too. The sign was put back in an evidence bag and that was resealed.

Sara sat down again. "Some good prints there. I hope they're in the system."

"Wouldn't that be nice." Russell gathered up the lifts and put them in a small manila envelope. "I'll take these to Mandy. Do you have anything else?"

"No. Housekeeping looks at the sign and seems to question it, but they don't touch the sign or go inside."

"Okay. Thanks…" Russell's phone buzzed and he pulled it out to take a look. "What?"

"What happened?"

"Finn's been arrested."

Sara was surprised. "What? Why?"

"I don't know, but I'm going to find out."

"Good luck."

"Yeah, thanks." Russell left the A/V room, gave Mandy the envelope of fingerprint lifts, and headed out of the lab. _Finn, what did you do?_

* * *

**Minutes earlier…**

Finn walked into the interrogation room. "You're making a mistake."

"You were seen leaving the backyard of a home in the neighborhood you were found in. Fleeing the scene, by the looks of it."

Finn sat. "Okay, look. My name is Julie Finlay. I work for the crime lab. Currently I'm on medical leave. My supervisor is D.B. Russell. The house I was leaving was his home and it is where I currently live. I was going out for a run."

"You expect us to believe that?" The uniforms were both young, making Finn certain that they were both rookies.

Finn rattled off Russell's number. "Call him. Tell him I'm here and he can clear this all up."

The rookies looked at each other and one pulled out his phone. "What's that number?"

Finn repeated the number slowly and the rookie sent a text. Next up: the waiting game. Finn was brought a soda and the rookies asked her questions. The questions were phrased in ways that only inexperienced cops would ask. They were hoping she would confess to breaking and entering and admit where she hid the items she had taken from the residence. Finn continued to explain who she was and why she was there in the first place.

She finished the soda. "Do you have an evidence bag for this so you can have my DNA tested?" The rookies looked at her blankly. "Come on, that's why you gave me this in the first place, right? No? How many months have you been on force?"

Russell knocked on the door and one of the uniforms opened it. "Mr. Russell. She's right here."

"Thanks. How you doing, Finn?"

"Just peachy. Officers Coonan, Baggins and I were just getting to know each other better. I'm guessing they got out of the academy about five months ago?"

"That's about right. I've got it from here, boys." The uniforms walked out and Russell sat down. "What'd you do, Jules?"

"You know I don't like to be called that. I went for a run."

"At 2am?"

Finn looked at her hands on the table. "I couldn't sleep."

"Oh." Russell leaned back in her chair. "Look, I'm sorry we asked you to look at the crime scene…"

"It's not that. Well, not really. It sort of is…"

"Jules…"

Finn threw him a dirty look. "I remember what happened."

"What do you mean?"

"When Winthrop attacked me… I remember what he did." Finn shuddered involuntarily. "I remembered because I looked at the crime scene today. I wrote it all down in my notebook."

Russell leaned on the table. "And you decided to go for a run after that?"

"I couldn't sleep. I went out the back door because I know about the key and I guess someone saw me go out the side gate."

"You hate running."

Finn got her trademark mischievous grin. "I don't hate it. I just strongly dislike running when it's not part of a sport."

"Oh, well, now that **that** is cleared up…" Russell smiled. "Want to get out of here?"

"I would love to."

"Okay." Russell stood and opened the door. "Come back in here for a minute guys. This is CSI Julie Finlay. She prefers to go by Finn and is on medical leave from the crime lab. She is currently living with me while she recovers. Please tell me you haven't sent someone to check on the place, because no one is home at the moment."

"Not yet. We were waiting for our supervisor to get back."

Russell nodded. "Good, good. Now, I gotta ask, how are the two of you partnered together?"

Baggins looked at his partner. "My partner's on medical leave."

Coonan nodded. "Mine called in sick. We were stuck together for patrol at the last minute."

"Okay, well, next time you see something like this, you should check all the details before making an arrest. This report will not be liked by your supervisor."

"Yes, sir."

"Okay. Come on, Finn."

Finn walked out the door ahead of Russell. "Thank you for getting me out of there."

Russell fell into step with her. "I'll take you back home. Are you still interested in that run?"

"Not anymore." They arrived at the car and she got in. "I want to come back to the lab."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Today, getting back in there, helping to figure out what happened; I realized, while I was lying there awake, that I would miss this if I retired. I know I won't be able to come back tomorrow, but I do want to come back."

Russell smiled and started the car. "I'll let Ecklie know."

* * *

**A/N: Hoping everyone had a safe and Happy New Year! Stay tuned!**


	52. Chapter 52

**Author's Note: I'd like thank phnxgrl and Crazy Aunt Ella for their reviews. For some reason the reviews are not visible online, but I did get the emails about them, so thank you guys. Hopefully the glitch gets fixed soon. phnxgrl: writing the arrest with the rookies was fun, so I'm glad you liked it. This chapter starts a few minutes after the last one ended. Enjoy!**

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Chapter 52

Sara was in the break room when Russell returned. "Hey. So, what did Finn do?"

"She went for a run. Someone saw her come out of the backyard and called it in."

Sara smirked behind her coffee cup. "Arrested for trying to stay in shape. I'll admit that the timing of her run is a little odd, but not completely unheard of." Sara took a sip of coffee. "She couldn't sleep?"

"Yeah, no. Winthrop woke her up. At least this time he kind enough to show her what happened that night." Russell poured himself some coffee and grabbed a sugar packet.

"Not sure if I'd call that being kind."

"I hear ya." He finished stirring his coffee and took a sip. "You want to know the crazy thing?"

"Sure."

"She's relieved now. What's been driving her nuts is the 'what happened to me?' question. Now that she knows, she thinks she can move on and get back to the lab faster."

Sara set down her coffee. "She said that?"

"Yeah." Russell took a seat at the table across from Sara. "We were worried that the crime scene would make her more fragile and it actually did the opposite. She was finally able to remember what happened when she was attacked and wants to come back. Isn't that something?"

"It is." Sara took another sip. "Does she know when she'll return?"

"No, not yet. I think it'll be a couple months at least. She'll have to pass the physical and be cleared by a psychiatrist. Basically, it'll be up to Finn how long that'll take."

"Well," Sara raised her mug, "to Finn's recovery."

"I'll drink to that." Russell tapped his mug against Sara's. "Did Mandy get anything from the fingerprints?"

"Yes. Meet Eduardo Perez. One count of armed robbery seven years ago. Nothing since, but he was only in prison for six months, so that's not why. Prison record says he was a model prisoner." Sara opened the folder next to her and slid it across the table to Russell.

"DNA's not on file, I take it."

"No. Henry's still working on the clothing trail from the hotel room."

Henry knocked on the door. "Hope I'm not interrupting."

"No, no. Come on in."

"Okay. I have a DNA match on the clothes. Touch DNA gave me two unknown males, but one of them matches the unknown male DNA from the house from hell. The other sample matches touch DNA from the door sign."

Sara looked at Russell. "We have a DNA match for Eduardo Perez now."

"But we still have to find him. The file doesn't have a last known address. What does the DMV have?"

"Same address as the building listed for Jesus Estobar. The building that burned down. He hasn't updated them yet."

"That's unfortunate. Anything else, Henry?"

"That's all I've got. Sorry."

"Don't be. You just linked a Person of Interest in the hotel staging with the house. Good job."

"Thanks." Henry handed Russell the folder and left.

"What now?"

Russell sighed. "I want to put Jesus Estobar's face on the news. Make it look like we need an ID. See what comes out."

"Good idea."

Several hours later, Russell and Sara sat in the break room watching the 6am news for their broadcast. "_Thank you Amy. And now, the police are asking the public for help in identifying this man._" A picture of Jesus' face popped up on the screen. "_He is the third victim in the brutal triple homicide in west Las Vegas two days ago. Police have been unable to identify him. If you know this man, please call…_"

Russell turned off the TV. "That'll run throughout the day until we get something."

"I hope the two other killers don't get out of town in the meantime."

"Me too. Well, I'm going to head home."

"Give Finn my best."

* * *

Greg was the first to come in the next shift. He put his car keys and wallet in his locker and closed it before turning to go out the door. Sara and Morgan came in before he'd taken a step. He greeted them and stepped over the bench in the middle so he could get out without having to make Sara move. He passed Ibarra on his way to the front desk to check for an update from the news report. He liked the new guy. He would never replace Nick, but he was still a good man and CSI to have on the team.

Russell was at the desk already. "Hey, Greg."

"D.B. Anything from the news report?"

"Two people who called ID'd him, but a woman just walked into PD claiming to be his girlfriend. Want to come?"

"Sure. Do I need my kit?"

"I've got mine." Russell thanked the receptionist and they headed out the door.

Crawford was waiting for them in the waiting room. "Thanks for coming. I heard Finn was arrested last night?"

Russell nodded. "She went for a run at 2am and a couple of rookies thought she was a burglar."

"Got it." Crawford turned and led the way. "I put the girlfriend in an interrogation room in case Estobar's two friends showed up to silence her."

"Has she said anything yet?"

"Not yet. She's in here." Crawford opened the door. "Ms. Martinez, this is CSI Russell and CSI Sanders. May we talk now?"

She nodded. "The men who killed my Jesus are dangerous. I wanted to make sure more people knew so it would be harder for them to silence the truth."

Russell took a seat. "Ms. Martinez, I'm very sorry for your loss. What was your relationship to the victim?"

"He was my fiancé. We have a daughter together. She's only a month old. I didn't come forward right away because I needed to protect her."

"Where is she?"

Crawford cleared his throat. "Child Services has her. Ms. Martinez didn't want her to hear us talk."

Greg leaned forward on the table. "Do you know who killed Jesus?"

She nodded. "Jesus gave me a flashdrive the last time I saw him." She reached into her bag. "When I didn't see him for two days, I watched it. He recorded a confession. Me and my daughter will need witness protection."

"Do the men who killed Jesus know he gave you this?"

She handed him the flashdrive. "No, but he said in the video that if they found out I talked to the police, they would kill me and Josephine."

Crawford opened the door. "I'll go get Ecklie."

Russell held out an evidence bag to Greg. "What's on the tape?"

"He said who he was working with, who they... killed," Martinez choked back a sob. "I thought I knew Jesus. He said he was undercover, but how could he do that?"

* * *

Russell stuck the flashdrive into a computer port, opened the file, and hit play. Jesus Estobar sat down in front of the camera and started to speak. "_My name is Jesus Estobar. This video is my statement against Eduardo Perez and Rafael Lopez. They are responsible for twelve murders over the last six months that I've known them. They have probably killed more. I know this because I have been an accomplice._"

He cleared his throat. "_The first time I was with them when they killed was six months ago. It was a homeless man in the alphabets. I never got his name. I kept watch while they beat him with a crowbar and a metal baseball bat. The second was almost a month later. This time it was a hooker in an abandoned warehouse. They told her they were going to show her a good time. I think she said her name was Jasmine._"

Russell was making a list as Jesus talked. "_Rafael was the one who found the house. He was so excited. I don't know how he found it. Eddy said we had to christen the house with a tougher victim. We couldn't just luck into them anymore. So they went shopping. Found a woman who'd looked at them wrong or something. Her name was Jessica Gardner._" He held up his cell phone to show a picture of a terrified woman with blood on her clothes.

"_The next time was an old man. He was just crossing the street in a neighborhood. Eduardo didn't like how long it was taking him to get out of our car's way, so he got out of the car and knocked him out. Threw him in the trunk._" Jesus held up his phone again. Eduardo was dragging an old man toward the back of the car. "_I don't remember his last name because I didn't know how to say it, but his name was Abraham. I do remember that._" Estobar lowered his phone.

"_I had to be careful about taking pictures. If they'd caught me doing it, they'd probably kill me too. This was the next victim. He almost hit Rafael's car backing out of a space. They both got out of their cars, and then he was out cold and in the trunk. And this,_" Jesus turned the phone around to change the picture and then faced it to the camera again, "_is Rafael and Eduardo. They're the ones in charge. Eddy a little more than Raf._"

Russell paused the video, took a screenshot of the pair, and started the playback again. "_If I had known what they were really up to, I never would have gotten involved with them. I have a girl and a daughter. This has put them at risk. Eduardo said if I snitched, he'd kill them the same way we were killing people and he'd make me watch._" He took a deep breath. "_A homeless guy was arrested for trespassing not long after we killed Zhen Fu. He was the first one I had to help with._"

Jesus set down his phone and cradled his head in his hands. "_Why'd they do that? I liked being the lookout because I could pretend I wasn't involved._" He screamed in frustration and anger. "_Sorry, I had to get that out._" He started to cry, so he stood up and turned off the camera. Russell pulled up the next video file and Jesus sat down again. "_I hate this. I got involved with them because I thought it was an extortion ring and I wanted my record expunged._"

He took a deep breath. "_With the house compromised, we went back to killing wherever we found someone. Another homeless man, another hooker. Then there was Victor Sanchez at the construction site in Henderson. He was a guard at the site overnight. That's where I started using a hammer. I realized I could be less involved because I couldn't reach in without getting hit. That and it was just sitting there._"

"_He was going to be the only one that night, but we must have come in just before shift change. Another guard, Eric Lampson spotted us just after Victor died. Eduardo caught up to him before he could call it in. Told the lady at the other end that his son had gotten a hold of his phone and dialed before he could stop him. I don't know if Eric felt anything. I think Eduardo killed him with the first hit. They both still beat him though._"

Jesus looked at his phone. "_I installed an app on my phone that told me what latitude and longitude I was at. We dumped the bodies at the same place every time. I usually had to do the digging. I didn't mind that part. It left me out of their conversations. Reliving their favorite parts of the last victim's beating. It made me sick how much they enjoyed it. I don't ever want to get to be that way._"

Jesus pulled up the information on his phone. "_I guess I should give you the coordinates. The bodies are at 36.327162 and -114.948702. The next victims were a couple. Valerie and Kenneth Hoffman. I couldn't get their picture, but I did pocket their driver's licenses_." He held them up. "_They were out for a walk at Desert Breeze Park. I can't remember what day it was, but I remembered that it started raining. The rain washed away their blood._"

Jesus shook his head. "_Rafael wanted to go back to the house, so the next time we killed, that's where we went. They made me pick this time._" Jesus looked horrified and ashamed. "_Oh, God. Why did they do that?! I didn't want to be responsible for ending a life like that. I didn't want any of that!_ _I shouldn't have joined them._" He shook his head again and a tear trickled down his cheek.

"_David Nguyen. That's the name of the one I chose. He can't have been older than me. He was just a kid._" Jesus was shaking. "_As long as I live, I will never be able to forgive myself. If I go to jail because of this, I don't care. I deserve it after what I've done. I only ask that my girl and daughter are put in Witness Protection so that they're safe from those monsters. I don't want them to stay here if Rafael and Eduardo get off._"

Jesus looked at the camera. "_Use this information. Arrest Eduardo and Rafael. Find the bodies and stop them. I beg you._" He got up and turned off the camera.

* * *

**A/N: Stay tuned!**


	53. Chapter 53

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank Crazy Aunt Ella for her review. I figured it had to be a glitch that would be fixed. It seems to be working now. This chapter starts right where the last one left off. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 53

Russell turned off the monitor. "Eight victims we didn't know about. Fifteen in total. If Jesus hadn't made this video, we would have had no idea how big this was."

The room was somber as Sara sat down. "The coordinates are in the area north of I15. We have to go up there and find the bodies."

"Agreed. I'll let PD worry about finding and catching Eduardo Perez and Rafael Lopez. Let's go."

The area where the bodies had been dumped was as vast and empty as much of Nevada's desert. A satellite photo of the area had shown the dump site to be rocky, which would be hard for even her all terrain wheels to traverse, so Sara had stayed at the lab. Now the CSI's were scrambling across the rocky terrain to reach the coordinates Jesus had given them. It was hard to believe the killers had brought the bodies here.

Morgan was holding the GPS. "We're almost there."

Russell stopped and set down the shovels he was carrying. "I can see why they picked this spot to dump the bodies. We're a mile from the road and there's a cliff up ahead. They're probably buried at the base of the cliff."

Ibarra stopped at the top of the cliff. "It's not a high one. Eight feet at most. And there's a path over this way."

Morgan got to the top of the cliff and held the GPS out over the edge. "We're here. Let's get down there."

Greg led the way to the small, shaded area at the base of the cliff. The earth was soft here, either because it was in the shade for most of the day with eight foot high walls on three sides or because the dirt wasn't naturally occurring. It was the wrong texture for the Nevada desert. This had been brought here. He collected a sample and then, with Russell and Morgan's help, set up the popup tent he'd been carrying. Ibarra had been carrying the other and it was now also set up at the top of the cliff.

Greg headed back up the path. "Ibarra and I will grab the rest of the tools."

"Thanks, guys." Russell set his shovels against the wall. "Looks like they built a burial ground."

Morgan set up the table she'd had slung across her back. "Yeah. Greg already got a sample."

"Good." Russell's phone buzzed. "Okay, Doc just texted. He has a John Doe that matches Jesus' description of the first victim. We're looking for eleven bodies here. I hope that's all the bodies here."

"Yeah." She took several photos of the area and ground.

Greg got to the top of the cliff with a bucket of supplies and a rope. "I'm going to lower this down. Ibarra's got another bucket too."

"Go ahead, Greg." Russell went to the bottom of the cliff and grabbed the bucket Greg lowered. "Let me know when David gets here."

"Okay." Greg pulled the rope back up and Russell handed the bucket to Morgan. "Next one coming down."

"Got it." Russell untied the bucket. "You're clear." The rope went back up and Russell took the bucket to the table. "I wish the terrain would allow for us to bring out the ground penetrating radar."

Morgan was emptying her bucket onto the table. "How do we want to get started? Set up a grid and go from there?"

"Yeah, but let's wait until David gets here. I want him to take care of the bodies." Russell looked at their setup. "I want to get another table set up down here."

Morgan started unloading the second bucket. "I'll get the buckets Greg lowers."

Russell went up the path and headed for the cars. He grabbed a table from the backseat and a bucket of trowels. Greg was filling a tub with filters and Ibarra had a stack of buckets with marking flags in the top one. Ibarra headed back toward the cliff with Greg not far behind. Russell was about to head back as well when he noticed the line of dust coming toward them. A car was at the front of the dust cloud.

Russell took the table off his back and watched the approaching car. It was still too far away to make it out, but from the way it was coming right toward them suggested the driver knew where they were going. Russell found himself wishing he carried a gun in case this was the killers. The car slowed as it approached and Russell straightened up in relief. David was driving the Coroner's van and it looked like Doc Robbins was in the passenger seat.

Russell walked around the back of the SUV. "I didn't know you were coming, Doc."

"Me neither. I thought I'd find more of their victims in the Doe cooler. When I didn't, I joined David. By my count, you're going to find eleven bodies out here. You're going to need all the hands you can get."

"Well, we're just getting set up. The GPS puts the bodies at the base of the cliff just beyond that tent. There's a path you can climb down or you can stay up here."

Doc started forward. "I'll stay up top. Have you started digging yet?"

"Not yet. Hey, David."

David was carrying a box with trays in it. "Hey, Russell."

Russell grabbed the table and bucket of trowels. "Let's go."

Greg and Ibarra passed them and said hi on their way back to the SUV. Doc had the tent moved a little so he could sit on a rock in the shade. Russell followed David down the path, handing the bucket to Morgan and setting up the other table. A few minutes later, another tent had been set up and the buckets with sifters of increasingly finer grain in them were in two lines under it. David put the trays out on the tables and more buckets, these ones for evidence collection, were set out underneath.

Ibarra came down from the top of the cliff after helping Doc set up his station. "Is there anything else we need?"

Russell and Morgan were finishing up the grid. "No, I think we're set right now. Everyone pair up and work a square at a time. Don't block the camera recording your work on your square. I want to make sure we can't be accused of planting evidence."

Russell paired up with Greg and Ibarra paired with Morgan. One would dig and fill up a bucket of dirt; the other would sift and sort. Grid square by grid square, the dirt was dug up. Bodies, in pieces or whole, skeletal or decaying, slowly were dug up. David and Doc worked together to get the bones and decaying flesh properly packaged for transport back to the morgue. They would have to work with Henry to match the parts to the IDs Jesus Estobar had provided.

Hours passed. The heat of the day increased, but this spot managed to stay somewhat cool, at least by comparison. Each square of the grid was dug up, sifted, documented, and marked off. They stopped digging when they hit the rock under all the dirt. Russell switched from sifting the dirt to sealing up the evidence and transporting it to the cars. The work went quickly and they all were soon packing up their tools too.

* * *

Russell went down to the morgue when Doc called. "How's it going, Doc?"

"Slowly. Henry's running DNA samples as fast as he can. So far, I've partially reassembled six bodies and I know the bones on those tables belong to four more."

"We only have ten bodies?"

The computer beeped. "Henry's got some more results." Doc went over to the computer and opened the email, scanning down the list. "He found three bones from an eleventh body." He printed out the page of results and brought it over to the autopsy tables covered in assorted parts. "Let's see."

Russell looked at the portable tables that had been brought in. "Some are still John and Jane Doe."

"Yeah. Those would be the homeless or prostitutes."

"High risk victims. People no one will report missing." Russell looked at the bodies. The most recent victims were mostly whole. His eyes were drawn to the body of David Nguyen, specifically his fingertips. "He still has his fingerprints."

"Yeah, most with skin do." Doc held up a tagged, disarticulated hand. "Removing the fingerprints must have been because they didn't have time to scrub the scene."

"That's a good bet." Russell watched Doc sort the pieces according to Henry's results. This would take a lot of time, but there was a good start here. "Anything I should know about before I go back upstairs?"

"Not at the moment. C.O.D. for most of the bodies can be conclusively labeled as massive Blunt Force Trauma, judging by the bone fragments. I'm assuming it'll be the same for all of them." Doc headed back to the computer as it chimed again.

"Okay. Thanks, Doc."

"Sure."

Sara was waiting by the elevator when Russell came back up. "Did you guys find everyone?" She fell into step with him.

Russell headed for his office. "Yes, all eleven. Most of them were in pieces. Doc's calling Blunt Force Trauma as C.O.D."

"Can't really say we're surprised; that's what Jesus described." Sara parked in front of Russell's desk. "Hodges has been working the non-biologicals. I'm not sure what he has yet. Greg and Morgan have taken over the garage to sort everything. I was going to join them."

"I'll be there in a minute."

"You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, no, I'm fine. Just tired is all."

Sara leaned back in her wheelchair. "You've been working hard ever since Finn was attacked. Have you had a day off since then?"

Russell thought about it. "Not really. Huh. Maybe I should do that." He laughed. "I should listen to you more often."

"Well, I do have experience in getting burned out. I'd hate to see you go down that road."

"Thank you. Let's wrap this one up first. Have you heard from Crawford?"

"Not yet." Sara backed up. "I'll see you in the garage."

"Yeah." Russell checked his email and was happy to see that Ecklie had gotten back to him regarding Finn's return. As he'd expected, she would need to pass a basic physical and a psych evaluation before she could come back. Russell printed out the email and put it in his briefcase to show Finn when he got home. He then left his office and headed for the garage, making detours to check on the progress Hodges and Henry had made on his way.

Hodges walked into his lab with a box of evidence bags. "Hey, boss. How long have you been there?"

"Just walked in. What do you have?"

"Not much. I'm running the dirt from the dump site." The printer whirred to life. "Ah, I think it's done."

Russell leaned against a counter. "Give it to me."

"Okay." Hodges cleared his throat and read off the chemical composition of the soil. "Basically it's soil used by landscapers. That might explain how some of the older bodies were already decomposed."

"The microorganisms in the soil broke down the bodies faster."

Hodges leaned against a table. "You know… maybe one of these guys' works in landscaping. That would explain how they had access to that much dirt."

"It's possible." Russell took the page from Hodges. "Thanks."

"No problem."

Russell checked in with Henry next. "How's it going in here?"

Henry stuck a tray in the RapidHIT machine. "One hundred DNA samples down, another thousand or so to go. I'll be doing this for the next couple weeks."

"Any results that are not a match to the victims?"

"Not yet. I'll keep my eyes open though."

Russell nodded. "Great, thanks."

"Mm-hm."

Russell headed into the garage to see the folding tables set up and covered in tarps with more tarps in a line on the floor for the sorting efforts. Sara was working at a lower table and everyone had a box they were going through. As he watched, Morgan held up a piece of evidence, looked at it closely, and then walked it over to a tarp labeled "clothing." There were a lot of pieces of cloth on that tarp.

Russell pulled on a pair of gloves. "Where do you want me to start?"

* * *

**A/N: The next chapter will wrap up this case and then I will take a week off to proofread the next case one last time. Stay Tuned!**


	54. Chapter 54

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank Crazy Aunt Ella and phnxgrl for their reviews. This chapter starts about an hour after the last one ended. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 54

The CSI's had been working on sorting the evidence for over an hour when Crawford called to let them know that Eduardo Perez and Rafael Lopez were in custody. Russell finished the pile he'd been working on and stripped off his gloves. The others said they'd finish sorting and then help Hodges and Henry process it all. Russell was about to leave when he had a thought and asked Sara to process the apartment the men had been found at when the warrant came in. Russell grabbed a folder of photographs and evidence, as well as a tablet with Jesus Estobar's confession on it, and headed to the station.

It was time to find out why these men did the things they'd done. Uniforms had found Eduardo at Rafael's house while they were both sleeping. They were brought to the station in separate cars and placed in separate interrogation rooms to prevent them from formulating a story together. Russell stood in the hallway looking into both rooms. Both men seemed to be strong willed and defiant, staring at a wall of their choosing with intensity and anger. They didn't want to be here.

Ecklie walked up to Russell. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm trying to figure out which one will break first. Neither seems to be the talking type."

Ecklie put his hands in his pockets. "Yeah."

Russell turned to Ecklie. "Are Ms. Martinez and her daughter in protective custody?"

"Yeah. The Marshall Service collected them a couple hours ago. They're safe."

"Good, good. Because we may need to use the confession tape to break one of them." Russell's phone buzzed and he pulled it out to take a look. "Henry's done running their DNA samples. They match what we have from the evidence and crime scene."

"That's good to hear." Ecklie looked at Eduardo Perez. "I'll take him."

"Okay." Russell went into I2 with Rafael Lopez. "Mr. Lopez. I'm CSI Russell."

"Good for you."

Russell chuckled. "You think you're a tough guy, don't ya? Yeah. I've seen your type a lot. They think that because they have a friend in the next room that they're untouchable."

"You got a point there, old man?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I've got a point. Your DNA is a match to two DNA samples. One was found on a doorknob in the house where three people were murdered, and the other in the hotel room of the couple who were murdered in that house. Your friend's DNA was in both places as well. Now, your DNA in an abandoned house? That's not enough. Your DNA inside the honeymoon suite of the victims in that house? That's a lot more suspicious."

Rafael shrugged. "Must be a mistake. I know nothing about any triple murders. And I've never been to the Mediterranean."

"I never said they were staying at the Mediterranean."

Rafael's smug face fell. "I think… I, uh… heard about it on the news."

"Right. When was that story being reported?" Russell sat down and set the folder and tablet on the table.

"I can't remember."

"Probably because that information was never made public." Russell pulled a picture out of the folder and looked at it. "This picture is even more damning though. Take a look." He set the photo down.

Rafael looked away from the still. "Shit."

"Yeah. That's you and Eduardo coming out of the honeymoon suite at the Mediterranean. I'd say congrats on your wedding if the room wasn't already booked by Mr. and Mrs. Mason."

"What do you want?"

"A confession would be nice." Russell slid a pad of paper and a pen to Rafael. "Names, dates, where the bodies were dumped; I want it all. Eduardo is being asked for the same things right now."

Rafael shook his head. "He won't talk."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that. The one who cooperates first will be a lot more likely to be given some leniency at sentencing. That could mean less time or actually getting some privileges. Right now, you're looking at twenty-five to life in a Super-Max."

"You know what? What you have here isn't enough to put me away for that long. I'll take my chances."

Russell sat back in his chair. "You sure about that?"

"Yeah. I'm sure."

"I'm going to give you another chance to change your mind." Russell turned on the tablet. "Before you killed Jesus Estobar, he made a confession video." He hit play.

"_My name is Jesus Estobar. This video is my statement against Eduardo Perez and Rafael Lopez. They are responsible for twelve murders over the last six months that I've known them. I know this because I have been an accomplice._" Estobar cleared his throat.

"Turn it off." Rafael's shoulders dropped and his face was resigned. "I'll talk."

Russell paused the video. "Jesus knew of twelve bodies. The Masons and Jesus makes fifteen. Are there more bodies?"

"Yes."

"How many and where are they?"

"At least a dozen. We buried them a few miles north of Ely. I can take you there." Rafael picked up the pen and started writing. "I never cared to learn their names. I just remember where we killed them."

Russell could see that Rafael was writing locations down. "Why did you kill Jesus Estobar?"

"He was a snitch. I don't know how Eddy found that out, but he knew Jesus was a snitch and said we had get rid of him." Rafael gestured to the video. "Guess he was right. How'd you get that?"

"That's confidential."

"His girl had it, right? Eddy's gonna kill her when he gets out."

"I doubt that." Russell turned the page Rafael had been writing on around. "Is this all you know?"

"Yeah. Look, Eddy's gonna know I snitched on him. What can you do for me?" Rafael leaned forward, desperation on his face.

"That depends if you're able to lead us to the other bodies or not."

Rafael was set up in a police cruiser with a significant escort. Russell drove the crime lab SUV with Morgan, Greg, and Ibarra accompanying him. David was driving the coroner van and Doc was with him again. For a while, it looked like Rafael was taking them in circles, but eventually he got them to a spot that was very similar to the other site they'd found. He got out of the squad car and led them to the exact spot.

"It's down there. The path is to the right…" Rafael started to walk toward it, but was stopped by a uniform. "You guys can find it."

The CSI's took their gear down the path and started to dig. After a couple minutes, a fractured human skull was unearthed. Russell looked up at the group gathered at the top of the cliff and nodded. Rafael had taken them to the right spot. Their suspect was taken back to PD and the CSI's got to work digging up the rest of the remains. Henry was going to love it when they got the evidence from this site back to the lab.

* * *

When Russell returned to the lab at the end of the dig, he was dusty but happy that the case was coming to a close on their side. Eduardo Perez had called for a lawyer five minutes into his interrogation. Rafael was being kept away from him to make sure "Eddy" didn't kill him for talking and showing the cops the other dump site. Russell looked into Henry's lab. As expected, he was not happy about the million more bone fragments he was going to have to process and analyze now.

Sara was in Russell's office with Finn. "You have a visitor."

"Finn, what's going on?"

Finn was sitting on the couch. "Did Ecklie get back to you?"

Russell nodded and grabbed his briefcase. "I was going to show you this when I got back home." He pulled out the email and gave it to Finn. "This is what Ecklie says you'll need to do to come back."

Finn nodded as she looked over the page. "Makes sense."

Russell turned to Sara. "Did you find the murder weapons?"

Sara nodded. "Yeah, all three of them. Just like Finn said. Henry has them now and Mandy already dusted them for prints. We should hear back soon."

"Good." Russell turned back to Finn. "I wanna show you something. Think you can handle a trip to the morgue?"

Finn hesitated and then nodded slowly. "I think so."

They rode the elevator down to the morgue and put on the white lab coats while they waited for Doc or David to come out. Doc finally emerged to meet them and Russell quickly explained what he wanted to do. Doc asked him to give them a moment and went back into the morgue. A few minutes later, after he and David had cleaned up a little, he let them come in. David was standing next to the computer and printing out the results Henry was sending.

Russell looked over the sea of bones on the tables in front of them. "You helped us solve a case that has solved over two dozen missing persons' cases. Some of these victims will probably never be identified and no one even noticed they were gone, but now we know about them. You were a part of this."

"I didn't do that much." Finn walked deeper into the room.

"No, you're right. One CSI is not the whole case. We all work together to solve these cases with the evidence we can find. You- you don't see your contribution as a big deal, but it helped us know what kind of people we were looking for. And that- that is a big deal."

Finn nodded and looked around at all the bones on the tables. Hundreds of fragments were on the tables. All were labeled with a number. Some had been sorted into groups that belonged to a John or Jane Doe, some were lucky enough to have been linked to a name. Finn turned to look at another table and found parts of a skull. Someone had been hit in the head hard enough or often enough to have not just fractured the bones, but shattered them. Finn swallowed, her neck muscles tightening up as she hugged her arms close to her body.

Russell was watching her. "What are you thinking?"

"This could have been me." Finn walked toward Russell with her shoulders hunched, tears of fear threatening to fall. "Five months ago, one month ago; I could have ended up on one of these tables."

Russell nodded. "Yes, you could have. But you didn't. You're alive. You're here. You survived. And I'm glad you did."

Finn sighed. "I just keep getting hit with how close I came to dying. I guess I do need a therapist."

"I have a list you can go over when you want to. All are experienced at working with people suffering from PTSD. You'll be in good hands."

"Thanks."

Sara pushed open the door and came into the morgue. "Henry had the results for the murder weapons. He was able to get DNA from at least the last four victims on most of them. And Mandy was able to match fingerprints to each suspect. Eduardo was the crowbar and Rafael was the bat. They're being booked now. Separately."

"Good, good."

Sara turned to Finn. "I hear you're not a big fan of living with Russell."

"Not really."

"Well, I just happen to have a spare bedroom I've been thinking of renting out. If you'd like to be my first renter, it's all yours."

Finn smiled playfully. "What does rent look like?"

Sara leaned back in her chair. "After you've renewed your driver's license, I'll need rides to work until I can get my own car. And since you can climb ladders and step stools, you'll have to get things off the high shelves for me. We'll figure something else out from there."

Finn looked like she was mulling things over in her head, but then she smiled and stuck out her hand. "Deal."

"Good. Let me know when you want to move in." Sara shook the blonde's hand.

"Soon." Finn playfully punched Russell's shoulder. "Told you it was temporary."

"Yes, you did." Russell smiled as Finn walked out before rubbing his shoulder. "She hits hard even when she's joking."

"Yeah."

"Thank you, Sara."

Sara smiled. "No problem. You said I calm her. Let's see if living with me helps her get better quicker."

Russell held the door open so they could go back upstairs. "I have no doubt that it will."

* * *

**A/N: That's it for this case. As I said before, I will be taking a week off to proofread the next case before I start posting it, and after that case I will post my adaptation of the series finale. Thank you for sticking with me and stay tuned!**


	55. Chapter 55

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank Crazy Aunt Ella, phnxgrl, and VegasGirl09 for their reviews. VegasGirl09: If Finn had survived on the show, I would imagine that Sara and Russell would be the biggest part of her support system, even without Sara in a wheelchair. There has been another time jump in the story. Finn has gone through the process to return to the lab and has been back for almost two months now. Due to the timeline stretching of my case because of Sara's injury and Finn's recovery, this case is taking place in October, 2016. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 55

Sara and Greg were in the break room talking about Nick's new job when Russell walked in. "A homicide call just came in and I want you two to take it."

Greg finished off his coffee. "You got it."

Sara and Greg arrived at the crime scene within a half hour of getting the assignment. The body was behind a movie theater and a small crowd had gathered by the tape to try and see what had happened. David was already there kneeling over the victim. Sara rolled under the tape, ignoring the murmurs from the crowd, and looked around at the alley. It was barely wider than a car and had a pole halfway between the walls on either side to prevent cars from coming down this way.

Greg had gone straight over to the assistant coroner. "Hey, David. What do you have for us?"

David looked up. "Vic's name is Jefferson Brown, 29. Three GSWs to the chest. I was just about to take a liver temp." He struck the thermometer in the victim's side. "And we have 93°F. He's been dead less than three hours."

Sara had stopped by a shoe. "Greg, I've got a woman's heel here. We may be looking for a second victim." She photographed it and then bagged the shoe.

Greg shined his light on the victim's fingers. "Looks like he has something under his nails." Greg lifted his hand and sniffed. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Popcorn butter. He came from the theater."

Sara rolled over to them. "I'm guessing he was on a date. Someone killed him and kidnapped her." She held up the evidence bag to show them the heel. "I found shoeprints on the ground by the heel. Do you have any lifts in your kit?"

Greg opened his kit. "Yeah, two. There's more in the SUV." He handed her the lifts and the keys.

"Thanks."

Greg took out his camera and started taking pictures of the victim. Jefferson Brown was an African American male and he was wearing a nice suit and big watch. Greg doubted this was a mugging gone wrong if that watch was still there. David had bagged the wallet already, but Greg could tell it still had all the cash and cards inside. Definitely not a robbery.

"David, did you find any business cards for our vic?"

"Yes, he's an investment broker. Here," David took the bagged card off his clipboard, "I was saving one for you. Left the rest in his wallet."

"Thanks." Greg took a look at the card, then back at the victim. "Hey, what does this look like to you?"

"I would say a mugging gone wrong, except both the wallet and watch are still here. Maybe the girlfriend was the target and they killed him to get him out of the way?" David looked up at Greg for his input.

"I'm liking that. It would explain why the struggle was over there where Sara found the shoe and not over here."

Sara returned and went to work collecting the shoeprints. When Greg came over to get some overall shots of the scene, she handed him the keys and returned to her task. He pocketed the keys and continued taking photos. As Sara was wrapping up the lift collection, Greg filled her in on what they were guessing was the way the murder had occurred.

"Huh." Sara set the filled box on her lap. "Uh, looks like David's ready to move the body."

"Okay. I already got the shots of the victim that I wanted. Did you see anything new?"

Sara shook her head. "No cameras in the alley. I was going to head inside the theater; see if they might have a shot of the woman he was with."

"Okay. I'll finish up here."

Sara asked Officer Mitchell to accompany her. He locked the box of evidence in his cruiser and they went around to the theater entrance. An employee met them at the door and led them to the manager's office, promising that she would be with them shortly.

After just a couple minutes, the manager walked up to them. "Hi, I'm Tracy Falcon. Is this about the body in the alley?"

"It is. I was hoping we could get a copy of your security footage for the night."

"We don't have any cameras in the alley."

Sara nodded. "I understand that. We found popcorn butter on the victim's hands, which tells me he was a customer here. We also have reason to believe he was with someone tonight. We'd like to find out who that was."

Falcon nodded. "Of course. Our security room is upstairs. The elevator is this way."

Falcon led them to the elevator and then to the security room once they were upstairs. Mitch stayed outside and Falcon introduced Sara to the security guard monitoring the cameras. Sara went over what she was looking for with him as well and he rewound the tapes in the lobby and concessions stands to before Brown had paid for his tickets with his credit card.

Sara spotted their victim standing at the ticket window. "There he is."

The guard nodded. "It looks like a woman is with him."

"Can you find a different angle?"

"Not at that location, but you said he had popcorn butter on his hands, so we should find them at the concessions stand."

He switched the camera to the one covering the main concessions stand and cued up the timecode from the previous video. Their victim and his date walked up to the counter and ordered. Sara had the guard pause the playback when they had a nice, clear shot of the potential abduction victim and sent it to Greg so he would have it too.

"Any chance I can get a copy of all the footage you have from tonight?"

The guard nodded. "Yeah, no problem." He got to work copying the footage onto a flash drive for them.

Sara dialed Greg's number. "Hey, Greg. Our victim did go to the theater. I'm getting a copy of the footage now. I'm not sure if the woman I sent you a picture of was his girlfriend though."

"_Why's that?_"

"There's something off about it. You can tell he's into her, but she doesn't seem to have the same feelings."

"_First date maybe?_"

"Maybe." She was handed the drive. "Thank you. I've got the footage now. Meet you back at the car?"

"_Okay. I'm_ _just about done here. You know, we should head over to the victim's home. Maybe we can figure out the missing woman's information and relation to the deceased there._"

Sara had the phone cradled between her shoulder and ear as she headed back to the elevator with Mitch. "That's a good idea. Make the calls to get us in there. I'll see you in five."

* * *

Sara and Greg returned to the lab to voucher their collected evidence and then headed down to the morgue to process the body. They worked quietly, each in their own thoughts. Sara collected swabs and scrapings from Brown's hands as well as running a couple swabs on what looked like stains on his clothes. She sat down, looking at his face, and noticed the light glance off something she hadn't seen while standing.

Greg noticed. "You see something?"

"Something on his face. I only saw it when I changed angles."

While Sara moved her chair so she could reach his face, Greg moved the light so he could see it too. "Oh, yeah. Looks like it might be transfer from his attacker."

"Yeah." Sara stood and swabbed the shiny spot on Brown's cheek. "Hodges might have fun with this."

Doc walked in and leaned his crutch against the table. "Are we ready to bag his clothes?"

"Yeah, we're all done here."

Sara sat down again. "I'll hold the bags."

The three of them removed Brown's clothes and bagged them for further processing. Once they were done with that, Greg grabbed the bags, Sara put the box of swabs and containers on her lap, and they went back up to the lab. Greg opened the door to the evidence room and Sara helped him hang up the victim's clothes so they could dry. They vouchered the evidence collected from Brown's body next so that the samples could be given to the right departments for processing. After that was done, Greg headed for the garage to continue working on one of his other cases.

Sara rolled into the shared office and transitioned into her office chair. She put her feet on the footrest and swiveled to face her computer. She was going to work on typing up her reports, but became distracted when she looked down at her legs. It had been over two years since she lost feeling in them. Two years since she'd lost the ability to walk and run and even stand without assistance. She'd been trying. There were exercises she could do to try and teach her muscles to work without her nerves being in control. But nothing was working.

A tear slipped down her cheek. Most days now, she was fine. She's gotten used to being in the wheelchair by now. Life had gotten to a place where her new normal was just that: normal. Everyone else was still nervous about what they said around her or how they act around her. Sara wasn't that fragile. The first few months, sure; that had been hard. The last few months, though? She'd gotten used to the stares and uncomfortable glances from strangers. Common phrases involving walking and running didn't sting the way they once had. Sara looked up at the structure over her desk. Nick had built this so she could move her chair on her own and develop her upper body strength, allowing her to be more independent. She moved her chair so her legs weren't under her desk, put on her workout gloves, and started doing some pull ups.

Finn walked in. "Something on your mind?"

Sara lowered herself back in the office chair. "Why do you say that?"

"Those gloves only come out when you have something on your mind."

Sara took off the gloves and sighed. "I thought I was doing better. Thought I was more adjusted to the chair."

Finn pulled out her own chair. "I'm still having a problem with time. Ever since my coma, I still find myself thinking its February or March, not October. I always have to double check the date before I start filling out a form."

Sara put her bar gloves away. "I think the two year anniversary coming up in a month, realizing it has been that long ago... I think it made me remember just how different my life is now." She put on her wheelchair gloves.

"Well, you haven't let the change stop you. You are still just as great a CSI now as you were before. Maybe some things aren't as easy now, but you've still got it." Finn's phone buzzed. "PD had a missing person report come in a few minutes ago that might be of interest. Want to come?"

Sara transitioned to her wheelchair. "Yeah. Maybe get my head on straight."

Finn stood. "That's the spirit." She waited for Sara to strap herself into the chair. "I'm driving."

"Not funny."

"Sorry."

* * *

**A/N: When I originally wrote this case, I included a character that would trigger the way Sara feels about her condition. Towards the end of the case, that character no longer fit and I was trying to force them in, so they have been removed. As for Finn, I feel that she would be almost back to herself when she returns to the lab, though an event that reminds her of her attack might still rattle her a bit. Stay tuned!**


	56. Chapter 56

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank phnxgrl and VegasGirl09 for their reviews. I felt I'd had Sara recover a little too quickly, so the reflection was to show that even though she is fine with her situation, there are days where she still struggles with it. I'm glad you both liked how it was written. This chapter starts a few minutes after the last one ended. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 56

Finn drove them to the apartment complex that was listed in the missing person's report and parked next to Mitch's cruiser. He helped Sara out of the car while Finn looked up the apartment number in the report. According to the report, the missing woman's name was Sharlene Jackson. She was twenty-eight, and in the report, she matched the description of Brown's abducted date.

Finn knocked on the door when they got there. A moment later, the door opened. "Yes?"

"Hi, I'm Sara Sidle. This is Julie Finley. We're from the crime lab. You filed a missing person's report?"

The door opened wider. "Yes, I did. Come in. Did you find Shar?"

"Not yet. We were hoping you might be able to answer a few questions for us." Sara stopped her chair by the couch. "You didn't leave your name in the report."

"I'm Vanessa Redmond."

Finn sat on the couch. "What was your relationship to Sharlene?"

"We… we were dating. For over a year now. We've been living together for three months." Vanessa grabbed a picture of Sharlene off the shelf behind her. "This is Shar."

Sara took the photo from Vanessa. The woman in the picture was the same woman in the surveillance footage. She handed the photo to Finn with a subtle nod. They were in the right home.

Finn handed the picture back to Vanessa. "What about Jefferson Brown?"

Vanessa looked at the picture in her hands. "Sharlene was humoring him. They work together, sort of. Same company, different departments. He asked her out for the first time a couple months ago. He doesn't know she's bi. They went out last night to the movies, but she didn't come home. I'm worried. Wait, how did you know about Jefferson?"

"Ms. Redmond, you might want to sit down."

Vanessa took a seat. "What's happened?"

Finn glanced at Sara. "Last night, Jefferson Brown was killed outside the movie theater he took Sharlene to."

"No, is Shar…?"

"As far as we know, she's still alive." Sara leaned forward. "Can you think of any reason someone would want to abduct her?"

"No, everyone loves her." Vanessa paused. "Wait, there was someone. He was stalking her, but that seemed to stop a month ago. I thought he'd moved on."

"Do you know who that was?"

"Marcus. Marcus Greenaway."

Finn texted the name to Greg for him to run. "What does Marcus do?"

"He works in construction. I don't know what company."

"Besides Marcus, is there anyone who might want to harm Sharlene?"

Vanessa shook her head. "No."

Finn stood. "Can we see Sharlene's room?"

"We share. Jeff never saw more than the living room and bathroom. We use the second room as an office and craft room." Vanessa led them to the bedroom. "Do whatever you need to. I just want her back."

"Thank you." Sara rolled into the bedroom. "One bed."

"Confirms they're a couple."

"Were you really doubting that?" Sara set up her kit.

Finn pulled on gloves. "Well, I don't know. The 'just roommates' story paired with Sharlene dating Jefferson Brown makes it all a little far-fetched."

"_Sara Sidle, do you copy?_"

Sara grabbed her walkie out of her kit. "Go ahead, Mitch."

"_I've got a 4-15 nearby. Am I good to respond?_"

"Yeah, we're all good here."

"_Okay. I'll be back as soon as I can_."

"10-4, Mitch." Sara set her walkie down. "We are good, right?"

Finn smiled. "Oh yeah. I think we can handle this."

They started to process the room, looking for insights on Sharlene's life. Sara found an organizer that looked promising. Finn found an organizer box of beauty supplies in the bathroom with Sharlene's name on it that might be a good source of DNA. Finn returned to the bedroom and stepped into the closet. The women each had a side as evidenced by the vastly different styles. Sharlene was business and upscale, Vanessa was Bohemian and low-key.

Sara was rifling through the night stand. "I'm scheduled to retake my qualification on Monday."

"You've been logging a lot of hours at the range, I've noticed. Is it helping?"

Sara nodded. "I think so. If they scored my practices, I'd already be carrying."

"I know how that is." Finn walked out of the closet. "Back in Seattle, before Russell was the supervisor, I broke my arm doing something stupid. Anyway, I was out for a long time, so I had to re-qualify. My practice runs, I was almost perfect. Day of the test, I flunked. I passed on the second attempt though."

Sara smirked at Finn. "Was there a cute instructor there the first time?"

Finn smiled. "No." She paused. "There was the second time."

"And you had to impress him."

"The number I put up that day stood for three years. Once they let the SWAT boys compete with us, my record fell. From what I hear, it is still in the top twenty."

Sara bagged a hairbrush. "Well, I'm just hoping to…" In the living room, there was a thud. "Did you hear that?"

Finn nodded. Her hand was on her holster with the strap undone and she started walking toward the door. Before she got there, it burst open and two men aimed their guns through the doorway. Finn drew her weapon and aimed it at them. Her mind was in panic mode. _This is just like my nightmares_. In her nightmares, Paul Winthrop would burst through the door, like he had so many months ago. But it wasn't Winthrop today. Today was two men with guns. She was outnumbered and very frightened.

Sara had knocked her kit over when the door burst open, but when she saw the guns, she froze. Her mind was flashing back to Cliff Ballard at the Mediterranean. Her hands shot into the air the way they had that day. She was terrified. The fear and pain of two years ago was coursing through her body and mind. What was worse was she was as unarmed today as she had been then. Finn had the gun and Mitch had been called away. There was no backup and Sara feared there was no way out.

Finn choked down her fear and identified themselves. "LVPD! Drop your weapons."

The masked man in front was the spokesman. "You drop your weapons."

"You are threatening cops. That's not very smart. Put down your guns, or I will shoot."

"No, see, you are outnumbered. She didn't draw her gun, and if you shoot me, my friend here will kill her before you can hit him." To emphasize that point, the guy in back adjusted the aim of his silenced weapon to Sara.

Finn looked at Sara and then raised her hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. You win."

"Put it on the floor and kick it to me."

Finn complied. The spokesman picked it up and stuck it in the waistband of his pants. Finn hated this. She'd just been disarmed and there was no guarantee that they would live. She looked at Sara again, an apology in her eyes. Sara nodded. She understood.

The gunman turned to Sara. "Now yours; toss it to me."

Sara started to speak, but nothing came out, so she cleared her throat and tried again. "I don't carry."

"Don't play me. You're a cop."

"A cop who failed to qualify. I don't have a gun." She gestured to her chair. "This kind of makes it difficult."

The gunman stared for a moment. "Fine. Phones, now. On the bed."

Sara and Finn tossed their phones on the bed. Finn made sure hers landed face down so they wouldn't see that she'd hit the panic button app on her phone. Ever since Winthrop, Finn had decided she wasn't going to be caught off guard without some way to call for help. She hoped Mitch was close enough to save them.

"Turn around."

"If I'm about to die, I'd rather face it head-on." Finn's hands might be in the air and her heart might be in her throat, but she was not about to go down without a fight.

"I'm not here to kill you. I want you to turn around so my friend can handcuff you." The man in the front pulled a pair of handcuffs out of his pocket and handed them to the second guy.

Finn turned around and put her hands behind her back. The second man secured her wrists to each other and stepped back. Finn was about to turn back around when she felt a needle stab her neck.

"Finn!"

Darkness claimed Finn's vision as her body went limp. She wanted to fight it, but the drugs in the syringe were too strong. The man guided her to the floor where she passed out.

Sara looked up at the men. "What did you do to her?"

"Gave her a sedative. Your turn." The spokesman walked forward and grabbed her wrists. He held them in one of his hands while the other pulled a syringe from his pocket. He used his teeth to remove the cap and moved it toward Sara. She was leaning away from the syringe as far as she could, but it was useless. She couldn't get far enough away while she was trapped in her chair. He stabbed her in the neck and she gasped at the pain. The drugs quickly took effect and she slumped in her chair.

The first man checked Sara's pulse. "Okay, grab that one. We might not have a lot of time."

* * *

Officer Mitchell apologized to the store owner for intruding and returned to his cruiser. That was strange. Dispatch had called out a 4-15 at 4155 South Jones Blvd, but no one at the auto shop had any clue what he was talking about. He reported the false alarm to dispatch and started the car. He needed to get back to Sara and Finn.

"_Silent alarm triggered at 4700 W Rochelle Ave. Closest unit, please respond_."

That was the building Sara and Finn were in. Mitch grabbed his radio. "This is Officer Mitchell. I'll check it out."

"_Copy, Officer Mitchell_."

Mitch turned on the siren and raced back to the building. The SUV was still parked when he pulled up. He threw the cruiser in park and jumped out. Upstairs, he hurried to the apartment. As he approached the door, he noticed that it was ajar. Mitch walked into the apartment with his gun drawn. Nothing really seemed out of place when he opened the door, but he also couldn't hear any voices, and no one was in sight. He slowly moved through the room, checking behind the couches and in the coat closet; there was still no one in sight. He cleared the living room and moved into the kitchen. As he neared the kitchen, Mitch noticed that there was blood on the cabinets. He quickly stepped around the peninsula. A large blood pool was the first thing he noticed. Second was the body in the middle of it. To his relief, it wasn't Finn or Sara. He had found the body of Vanessa Redmond and she'd been shot in the chest.

The blood pool on the floor was too large for Ms. Redmond to possibly still be alive, but Mitch still had to make sure. He knelt down and placed two fingers against her throat. As he suspected, she was still warm to the touch, but there was no pulse. She was gone. Mitch stood after checking her pulse and moved into the second bedroom. There were sewing machines and craft supplies on one side of the room and a desk set up on the other, but no one was in the room. He backed out of the room and into the bathroom. Again, nothing appeared out of place. He pulled back the curtain to check the shower, but it was empty.

He left the bathroom, a bad feeling in his gut. Sharlene's roommate was dead and so far he hadn't seen Finn or Sara. He approached the bedroom door, almost afraid of what he would find on the other side. He paused outside the door and took a breath. He pushed open the door. This room appeared empty at first blush too. Then Mitch noticed Sara's chair by the nightstand. She wasn't in it. He hurried around the queen bed, but there wasn't a body on the other side. Mitch turned and checked the closet. No one was in there either. He exited the closet and noticed two cell phones on a bed. He holstered his gun and pulled a glove from his pocket. The face up phone was Sara's, the face down one was Finn's and that was the source of the silent alarm.

He returned to the living room. "Control, this is Officer Mitchell. I need backup and crime scene to my location. Two CSI's are missing, possible abduction. One body is here, not CSI Finlay or Sidle."

"_Copy, Officer Mitchell. Crime scene is on their way. Secure the scene_."

"Copy that."

* * *

**A/N: Uh-oh...**


	57. Chapter 57

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank taylr, Crazy Aunt Ella, phnxgrl, and VegasGirl09 for their reviews. taylr: I chose Finn and Sara because they were both recently traumatized. This means that they lean on each other for support. There are other reasons that will be shown later, but that's what I can divulge now. This chapter starts a few minutes after the last one ended. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 57

Russell pulled up in front of the apartment building with Morgan in the passenger seat. Mitch was leaning against his cruiser, talking with Detective Crawford. Russell got out of the car and went over to the two men. Morgan grabbed her kit from the back seat and followed.

"What the hell happened?"

"Sorry, Russell. I wasn't here when they were taken." Mitch pushed off his car. "Dispatch got a call about a 4-15 that was five minutes away from here. I radioed up to let them know and they said I could go."

Morgan set her kit down. "It was a false alarm, wasn't it?"

Mitch nodded. "Silent alarm call came in when I got back to my cruiser. I came back, door was open, so I went inside. Found the roommate in the kitchen, deceased. I cleared the rest of the apartment. Found their phones on the bed and Sara's wheelchair was empty. Finn had a silent alarm app on her phone."

"She added that after what happened with Winthrop." Russell sighed. "Okay, did you touch anything?"

"I checked the victims pulse on her neck and opened the bedroom and bathroom doors. I also used a glove to turn Finn's phone over. I turned off the alarm and called it in."

Morgan picked up her kit. "I'll head up there and get started."

"Okay."

Morgan headed upstairs and ducked under the tape to enter the apartment. David was taking photos of the victim in the kitchen. She headed over to him and took a look. It looked like she had been loading the dishwasher when she'd been shot in the chest twice. Spatter patterns and two slugs in the wall said the bullets had gone right through her.

David set his camera down. "Hey, Morgan."

"Hey. Do we have an ID?"

"Vanessa Redmond, 28. I'm guessing she was the girlfriend of Sharlene Jackson."

Morgan set down her kit. "Girlfriend? I thought Sharlene was dating Jefferson Brown."

David hooked a thumb over his shoulder. "There's only one bed in the apartment and the pictures in the bedroom say they are quite cozy."

Morgan opened her kit and took out her camera. "Did you already get shots of the room?"

"No, just the body. I left the room for you. I did take a picture of the bullets in the wall because it was a through-and-through."

Morgan took overall shots of the kitchen and then started taking close-ups of the spatter and bullets. Then she turned and took overall shots of the living room. Russell entered the apartment and went directly to David for his report on the victim. Morgan finished taking photos of the living room and moved into the bedroom.

Like David had said, the framed pictures in here spoke of the relationship the two women shared, but that isn't what drew the young blonde's eyes. It was Sara's chair sitting empty on the far side of the bed. Morgan sighed. In the past two years since Sara had been shot and come back to the lab, Morgan had gotten used to the reserved brunette being in that chair. To see it empty filled Morgan's heart with dread.

Russell came up behind her. "Seems strange to see it empty."

"Yeah. Are they going to be okay?"

"Yeah, we'll find them."

Morgan nodded and started taking pictures of the room. The phones were on the bed, both face up as Mitch had left them. Sara's kit was upside down on the floor, the contents spilled out a bit. The basket-tray combo was to the side of the chair. This was strange. The tray side of the basket had a slip resistant coating to prevent the kit from falling off.

"Hey, Russell?"

"Yeah."

"Come and take a look at this."

Russell came over. "That's odd. You've photographed this."

"Yeah."

"I wonder." Russell carefully grabbed Sara's kit and turned it over before opening the lid. "Ha. Clever girl."

"What is it?"

"She did this on purpose to protect the evidence she'd collected. I looked at Finn's kit. Her personal log says she collected three pieces of evidence, but nothing is in or near her kit. Sara's kit looked like it had been dropped."

"So we still have what she collected." Morgan snapped a couple more pictures. "Check the pocket on the side. We might have Sara's interview notes too."

"Okay." Russell reached into the pocket. "Good call. Ms. Redmond won't tell us much now, but Sara might have some information in here that's worth looking into."

Morgan set her camera down on her kit and gloved up. "I'm going to bag their phones."

"Go ahead." Russell stood up while flipping through Sara's notes. "According to this, Sharlene and Jefferson Brown we're not a couple. Sharlene was being nice to him. Vanessa was Sharlene's girlfriend."

"David thought that Vanessa and Sharlene were romantically involved, you know, based on their only being one bed." Morgan put the bagged phones in her kit.

Russell bagged the notebook. "There is a possibility that Sharlene was dating both. Sara's notebook says she is bi."

"If Vanessa Redmond wasn't dead, I'd be suspicious of her involvement in the kidnapping and murder."

"Yeah." Russell bagged Sara's notebook and stood. "Greg got a text with a name Finn wanted him to run. Do you know anything about that?"

Morgan shook her head. "You'd have to ask Greg."

* * *

Finn woke up with a splitting headache. She tried to jerk her hands up to clutch the sides of her head, but the hard metal of the handcuffs holding her hands behind her prevented that. She groaned and opened her eyes. She was in the trunk of a car. That would explain the bumping and swaying motions as well as the overall discomfort. She moved her hands slightly and found Sara's hands.

Sara felt Finn's touch and reached out to let her friend know she was awake too. "Head hurts, right?"

"I've had hangovers that were less painful." Finn tried to move. "I've got something digging into my left arm."

"I'm pretty sure your feet are by my head." They hit a bump and Finn's feet hit Sara in the back of her head. "Yep. Ouch."

"Sorry."

"It's not your fault. I'm sure mine have hit your head a few times. I just can't feel it."

The car came to a stop and then the engine turned off. A minute later, the trunk opened and Finn was looking at the business end of her own gun. She'd been ready to attack, but the gun stopped her in her tracks. Now there was a third guy with them. The one with the gun stepped to the side and the other two grabbed Finn and pulled her roughly from the trunk.

She was pulled to her feet and the gunman kept the weapon pointed at her. "Don't run. I won't chase you. I'll just kill you."

Finn nodded to show she understood. The gunmen nodded and his friends hoisted Sara out of the car. Her feet hit the ground with a thud and her legs were limp. Finn knew she had to be in pain with the way they were holding her up by her arms, her shoulders wrenched behind her. Sara's face was contorted in pain.

"Be careful with her. She can't use her legs to support her weight."

The gunman turned back to Finn. "Move. Into the house."

Finn headed to the front door, Sara getting dragged behind her. She was looking around as cautiously as she could, remembering all the details she could. The car they had been brought in was a Ford Taurus in bright silver. The Nevada license plate was 819-NGV. Two other cars were there, but they were too far away to see the license plates clearly. Finn saw a dark blue or green Ford Explorer and a black Lexus RC F. All three cars were less than five years old, but at such a quick glance, it was hard to pinpoint the year. She turned away from the vehicles.

This house was the only one around. It was a single story home, at least above ground, and it was situated in the middle of the desert. The trees here were sparse and the brush surrounding them was dry. There didn't appear to be anyone else for miles, which was probably why this house had been chosen. As Finn approached the front door, she saw the rusted address number on the side of the house: 15692. Now if only she knew the street they were on.

The gunman opened the front door and shoved her over the threshold. "Downstairs."

Finn found the staircase and headed down it. Behind her, the gunman kept his weapon trained on her and behind him, Sara grunted in pain. Finn wanted to turn around to see what was going on, but the gun barrel poked her in the back. She kept going, reaching the bottom of the stairs and coming to a stop beside the door. The gunman entered a code in the keypad on the wall beside the door frame and opened the door. Finn glanced back to see Sara being carried down the stairs with one guy holding her by her arms and the other holding her ankles. Those bastards were going to break her.

"Get in."

Finn walked inside. The basement had two bars running down one wall. There was a ladder in the corner, probably leading to an exterior basement hatch. Handcuffed to the bar on the far side of the room was Sharlene Jackson.

The gun man grabbed Finn's shoulder. "Don't do anything stupid." He unlocked the cuff on her right hand. "Sit down." Finn sat and he cuffed her to the bar.

Sara was set on the floor roughly and the gunman undid the handcuffs. "Please, don't cuff me to the bar. I promise, I won't escape. I can't climb stairs anymore."

"What about a ladder?"

"What do you think? Being paralyzed makes that impossible. Besides," Sara looked at Finn, "I wouldn't leave without her, and she is cuffed."

"Fine." The three men headed for the door. "No screaming or you'll regret it."

The door banged shut behind them. Finn leaned back against the wall. She had thought she was recovered from her attack, but today had proved her wrong. These men, whoever they were, had caught her under-prepared and now Sara was paying for it too. Finn looked at Sara. She was paralyzed; she wouldn't be able to defend herself very well. It was up to Finn to protect them and get them out safely. She tested the bar's strength. There was a little wiggle, so she decided to work on that later. Sara pushed off the ground and twisted to get in a sitting position before dragging herself to lean against the wall.

Finn turned to her friend. "Are you okay?"

"My shoulders hurt. They weren't nice coming down those stairs."

Sharlene Jackson turned to face them. "Did they kidnap you too?"

Finn turned to their fellow prisoner. "Yeah. We were at your apartment trying to get some information so we could find you."

"Was Vanessa there?"

"We spoke to her." Sara was massaging one of her shoulders. "We didn't see her when we left though."

"They drugged you, right?"

"Yeah."

Sharlene leaned her head back against the wall. "She's not here with you. That means they killed her too, just like they killed Jeff."

"We don't know that yet."

"I do." Sharlene turned to Finn. "They didn't hesitate to kill Jeff. They wouldn't pause to kill her too."

* * *

**A/N: What is going to happen? Stay tuned to find out.**


	58. Chapter 58

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank Crazy Aunt Ella, taylr, VegasGirl09 and phnxgrl for their reviews. This chapter starts a few minutes before the last one ended. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 58

Russell and Morgan returned to the lab and vouched their collected evidence so Henry, Hodges, and themselves could get started on processing it. Morgan took Sara's chair and dusted it for prints, then collected swabs for touch DNA and gave those swabs to Henry. She checked the pockets hanging from the armrest of the chair, but she found nothing useful.

Russell took the kits. Sara's was unlikely to provide evidence from their abductors, but the things she'd collected would help in the abduction and murder case. Finn's case had been rifled through and might contain prints or touch DNA. Russell handed the organizer, hairbrush, and lip balm Sara had collected to Greg to sort through and then dusted Sara's case for prints in case the abductors had touched the case. There were several partials and he collected those to run later. He did the same thing to Finn's case and he also collected several swabs for Henry to run. Morgan picked up all their fingerprint lifts and took them into the print lab to run them. Russell took the tray of swabs to Henry and went into his office. Ecklie was waiting for him.

"Conrad."

"Russell. Fill me in."

"Mitch was called away on a 4-15 that turned out to be a bogus call. While he was gone, Finn and Sara were taken by a person or persons unknown." Russell sat behind his desk. "Morgan &amp; I processed the apartment. Sharlene Jackson's girlfriend and roommate had been murdered and Sara's chair was left behind, as were their kits."

"What had they collected?"

"According to Finn's log, she collected a hairbrush, lipstick, and photographs. All of those items were missing, as was her camera. Sara had knocked her kit over, so the items she collected are safe, but her camera is missing too."

Ecklie nodded. "If you guys need anything, let me know. Manpower, overtime; whatever you need, I'll make it happen."

"Thank you, Conrad."

Morgan walked in. "Hey, Dad."

"Hey, sweetie."

She turned to Russell. "Prints are a dead end. All belonged to Sara, Finn, Mitch, me, or Greg."

"Because you picked Sara up for work, Greg was with her at the theater crime scene, Finn was with her at the apartment, and Mitch was at the theater and apartment."

"Exactly. My guess is the abductors were wearing gloves."

"Makes sense." Russell leaned forward in his chair. "What about the touch DNA swabs?"

"Henry's still working them."

Greg walked in with a folder. "Hey, so I ran the name Finn gave me. Marcus Greenaway. He has two prior counts of violating a restraining order and stalking, and there are three restraining orders against him. Two are from the other women who filed reports on him and one from Sharlene."

Ecklie crossed his arms. "When did Sharlene's restraining order get filed?"

"A month ago."

Russell looked at Morgan. "Sara's notebook said Greenaway backed off a month ago."

She nodded. "Maybe he was planning some revenge."

"Greg, check on the whereabouts of the other two stalking victims."

"Already did that. Both are alive and well. After he violated his restraining orders and went to jail, he left them alone. I've put protection details on them though, just in case."

Russell nodded. "Okay, good. What about the stuff I gave you?"

"I gave the hair brush and lip balm to Henry, and I'm still working with the organizer. So far, I don't see anything that gives us any suspects."

"Okay, Greg, keep on it." Russell's phone buzzed with an incoming text. "Doc's done with the post on Jefferson Brown."

* * *

Russell went down to the morgue for Doc's autopsy report. "What can you tell me, Doc?"

"Hey, D.B. Any word on Finn and Sara yet?"

"No, not yet. We're hoping you might have something that will help us."

"I might. David told Greg and Sara that Jefferson Brown had been shot three times in the chest." Doc pointed to the wounds. "I've recovered the bullets. Sent them up to Ballistics. They were 9mm. The shots came from about three feet away."

"So, up close."

Doc nodded. "I noticed some skin discoloration as well, so I took sub-dermal photography to find several perimortem bruises."

Russell looked at the photos Doc handed him. "Sara was right. There was a struggle. Brown took a beating before he was shot."

"Trajectory of the bullets suggests he was on the ground when he was shot."

Russell glanced between Brown and the photos of the bruising. "These injuries don't seem severe enough to have knocked him down."

"You're right. That was done by this." Doc turned Brown's head to reveal a gash and bruise on the back of his head. "He was hit on the back of his head with the butt of a gun. It wasn't hard enough to kill him, but it was enough to knock him down."

"Leaving him vulnerable to getting shot." Russell looked toward the body hiding under the sheet on the next autopsy table. "What about Ms. Redmond?"

"I haven't started on her yet." Doc grabbed his crutch and went over to the other table. "What I can tell you right now is where the bullets entered and exited. One bullet went in just between her breasts and the other just above her left breast. They both exited through her trapezius muscle, though one might have been through the infraspinatous. You collected the bullets?"

Russell nodded. "Yes. Did the bullets passed through her heart?"

"Won't know until I open her up."

"Okay. Let me know when you're done with her."

"You got it."

* * *

**Meanwhile...**

Finn tested the bar again. The wiggle had increased a little, but not enough to get loose yet. Sara had stopped massaging her shoulders and was working on her legs now. Sharlene had been quiet for a while. Finn had tried to get her engaged in a conversation a few times, but she hadn't responded. Sharlene must be grieving Vanessa. Finn wiggled the bar more aggressively, but stopped when the keypad buttons beeped.

The door opened and one of the men walked in without his mask on. "Lunchtime." He set the tray of food in the middle of the room. "Enjoy." He walked out, a sneer on his face.

The tray had the makings for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Sara swung her legs around and went to the tray. "Anyone have any allergies?"

Finn shook her head. "No."

Sharlene finally looked up. "No." Her eyes dropped again.

Sara started to make sandwiches. "I've been wanting to ask, why did you go out with Jefferson Brown? You were already in a relationship."

Sharlene looked up. "You must think I'm a slut."

"That is not what I said."

"You didn't have to say it." She looked away.

Sara glanced at Finn. "I promise you, I'm not judging. Vanessa said you were humoring him. I just wanted to hear it from you."

Sharlene slowly faced Sara again. "I was. I mean he was nice enough, and if I wasn't already with Vanessa, maybe I could have been happy with him."

Finn stood up to get some feeling back in her left arm. "Why humor him though? If you were already in a relationship with Vanessa, I mean."

Sharlene had a small, sad smile across her face. "He was sweet. He asked me out a couple times. I felt bad for him, so eventually I agreed."

Sara wrapped a sandwich in a napkin and scooted across the floor to give it to Sharlene. "And you made sure to tell Vanessa so she would know you weren't cheating on her."

Sharlene nodded. "Yes. She didn't understand at first, but then she met him. She even agreed to pretend to be just my roommate so he could come over." She unwrapped the sandwich. "I should have just been honest with him. Told him I was bi and in a relationship. Then maybe none of this would have happened."

Finn massaged her arm, grimacing at the tingling sensation. "How's that?"

"The men who have us? One is Marcus Greenaway. He was stalking me up until a month ago when I got a restraining order against him. Hugo Alvarez is his best friend. He's the one who brought in lunch. From what I can tell, they are being helped, mostly financially, by Harvey Shortz. Shortz had a sister who was dating Jeff before me."

Sara wrapped the second sandwich in a napkin. "So?"

"Jessie Shortz committed suicide when Jeff tried to get her into a drug rehab program. I guess Jeff threatened to break up with her if she didn't get help. Harvey has blamed him ever since."

"Did Brown know?"

Sharlene nodded. "That's why he was so shy about asking me out. Why he didn't push me to sleep with him. He was afraid of it happening again."

"What about Hugo? How'd he get involved?" Finn took the sandwich Sara offered her.

"Marcus asked him to try and scare Jeff away from me. I was there when he tried. I used pepper spray on him. I've been working on getting a restraining order against him too."

Sara returned to the tray of food. "So they killed Jeff and kidnapped you for revenge. What do they want from you? And why kidnap us?"

Sharlene swallowed. "I don't know." She put her sandwich on the napkin on her lap and stared at it. "Marcus seems to be the leader. My guess is kidnapping cops is a way to get revenge for sending him to prison."

"How did you and Marcus meet?"

"He worked for the construction company that remodeled our offices recently."

The door opened. "Hey! Sit down!"

Finn dropped to her knees. "I couldn't feel my arm anymore."

Alvarez put his face in Finn's. "Did I ask?"

"No. I just thought you should know. Can we switch arms? Please."

Alvarez scoffed. "No." He turned to Sara. "Get back against the wall."

Sara put her sandwich on a napkin and set it on her lap. "Of course."

Another man came in. "What's going on?"

Alvarez pointed to Finn. "She was standing…"

Finn interrupted, "...to get feeling back in my arm." Finn had gotten off her knees to sit again. "I was just asking if we could switch which arm was cuffed to the bar."

The other man nodded. Alvarez groaned in disapproval, but complied. "Don't do anything stupid."

"Wouldn't dream of it." Finn grabbed the bar with her right arm, sandwich on the napkin next to her, and held still. Alvarez took the cuff off Finn's left wrist and cuffed her right to the bar. "Thanks."

Alvarez turned to Sharlene and asked sarcastically, "How about you?"

"Yes, please." Sharlene handcuffs switched arms too and she groaned as blood started circulating again. "What do you want with us, Marcus?"

The second man turned to leave. "You'll find out soon enough."

* * *

**A/N: What is going to happen to them? Stay tuned...**


	59. Chapter 59

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank VegasGirl09 and phnxgrl for their reviews. We'll have to wait a bit longer to find out why the girls were taken. This chapter starts within an hour of the last chapter ending. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 59

Greg walked into the A/V room. "The organizer is a bust. I've been through the whole thing and nothing useful came from it. What are you doing?"

Morgan glanced at him. "I'm trying to trace the 911 call that took Mitch away from Sara and Finn."

"Good idea. Got anything yet?"

"Not yet. I'm still trying to find the actual call." She clicked on the next call.

"_911, what's your emergency?_"

"_Yes, I'd like to report an altercation at 4155 South Jones Blvd. Hurry, I think it's going to escalate soon_."

"_Can you describe the people involved?_"

Morgan stopped the recording. "That sounds like it."

Greg pointed at the screen. "Look at the next call. It came in at almost the exact same time."

Morgan wrote down the number of the highlighted call and clicked on the one Greg was pointing to. "Let's see what this one is about." She hit play.

"_911, what's your emergency?_"

"_You need to send a cop right away. Two guys are arguing. One of them looks like he's going to hit the other one_."

"_Where is this happening, sir?_"

"_4155 South Jones Blvd. Please hurry_."

Morgan stopped the recording. "They said almost the exact same thing."

"Two people reporting the same thing ensures a cop will get there quickly. And according to the map up there, Mitch was closest."

"The phones were both equipped with GPS. We have their coordinates." Morgan plugged the coordinates into the map. A new point appeared on the screen just a block away from the apartments where Sara and Finn were taken. "They were nowhere near the address they gave."

"They needed to be close enough to see Mitch leave." Greg used the other computer to run the number Morgan had written down. "This phone comes back to Megan Peters. Apparently it was stolen three days ago."

Morgan ran the other number. "I've got a Gregory Sampson for the other number. No reports linked to it. Maybe he's involved."

"I'll have PD pick him up."

"I'll tell Russell."

* * *

Gregory Sampson sat in the interrogation room staring at Russell and Crawford, looking very confused. "Is someone going to tell me what this is about?"

"Where were you this morning, Mr. Sampson?"

"At work." Sampson turned to Russell. "Why?"

Russell pushed a page toward the suspect. "Because your phone made a 911 call that allowed two men to abduct two of my CSI's. How do you explain that?"

"It was stolen from me last night. I told hotel security about it. They said they'd take care of the report."

"Who did you talk to?" Russell flipped open a notebook.

"The head of security. I don't remember his name. I took my wife out to dinner at Cut in the Venetian. I left my phone inside my suit coat pocket. The coat checker swears she didn't take it, but she admitted that she left the counter unattended for a moment."

Crawford looked down, doubtful. "Can anyone verify your alibi this morning?"

"Everyone in my office. I had a presentation to give on a new product."

* * *

**Meanwhile...**

While Russell was talking to Gregory Sampson, Henry called Morgan into the DNA lab. "DNA results came back. The hair in the hairbrush is an unknown female, but the color and texture is consistent with the pictures of Sharlene. The same DNA profile was also on the shoe that Sara found outside the theater."

"What about the lip balm and touch DNA?"

"Lip balm had two profiles on it. One belonged to Vanessa Redmond; the other matches the hair brush and shoe."

"More support that the hairbrush was Sharlene's."

"Yeah." Henry picked up the second folder. "Touch DNA from the kits. I found two profiles. One is an unknown male. The other is Marcus Greenaway."

Morgan's posture straightened in surprise. "Marcus Greenaway?"

"Yeah. You know him?"

"Of him. Sharlene Jackson has a restraining order against him. He just went from person of interest to suspect in my eyes. Where did you find his DNA?"

"It came from the swab you used on the seat back of Sara's wheelchair." Henry handed Morgan the folder.

"So we know he's involved." Morgan looked through the report. "No other profiles?"

"Just you, Greg, Finn, Mitch and Sara. And that was all on Sara's chair or the handle of her kit. Finn's kit had DNA from Finn and the unknown male." Henry picked up a third folder. "Russell found a wet patch on the carpet in the bedroom. His swab went to Hodges first, but he found biologicals, so he sent it to me."

"What was it?"

"Saliva. Finn's to be specific. I don't think she was awake when they left that apartment."

"I don't remember seeing any blood." Morgan took the third folder. "I'll show these to Russell when he gets back. Thanks."

"Yeah."

* * *

Russell and Morgan returned to the apartment and went straight into the bedroom. They sprayed Luminal over the room and turned off the lights. In the darkness, only the spot that had been wet the previous day lit up when the black light passed over it.

Morgan turned the lights back on. "I don't understand. There's no blood, but Finn's saliva is on the carpet."

Russell turned off the black light. "Maybe they were drugged."

"I don't see anyone sneaking up on Finn like that. Not after Winthrop."

"Okay, bear with me." He went back into the living room and Morgan followed. "We know the front door was not kicked in or tampered with."

"They had Sharlene's keys."

"Exactly. So they open the door." Russell simulated opening a door. "They come inside and Vanessa is in the kitchen filling the dishwasher."

Morgan nodded. "They shoot her twice in the chest."

Russell paused. "If Finn and Sara had heard the shots, they would have called it in."

"But they didn't. So the weapon was silenced. The body still would've made noise when Vanessa collapsed."

"Right, but that sound could have been made by anything. The girls would've checked it out before calling that in." Russell put his arm up like he was holding a gun. "Let's see how long it takes to get to the bedroom."

Russell said go and they made their way back to the bedroom. When they got there, Morgan stopped in the doorway. "Ten seconds."

"Just enough time to check that you've both heard something and for Finn to start heading for the door."

Morgan pointed at the door frame. "They kicked this door in. Finn would have pulled her gun."

Russell nodded. "But Sara still doesn't have one, so the girls were out-manned and outgunned."

"Why abduct them though? Why come here at all? They have Sharlene. Why risk it?"

"There's more to this. I just don't know what it is."

* * *

**Meanwhile...**

Greg went down to the morgue for the autopsy report on Vanessa Redmond. "Doc, what do you have?"

"David told Russell the victim's TOD was less than an hour before he got there. I agree. COD is also as expected. One bullet entered the right ventricle of the heart and exited the left ventricle before exiting the body through the trapezius. The other went through her lung and almost passed through the left pulmonary artery. Death was quick. She didn't feel much."

"The shots didn't ricochet at all?"

Doc shook his head. "No, straight through."

Greg headed to Ballistics when Doc was done with his report. Ibarra was comparing the bullets from both crime scenes. "What's the verdict?"

"They're a match. 9mm, all from the same gun."

"Can you tell what gun?"

He shook his head. "The gun isn't in the system. If you find the gun, I can match them to it, but without it, we don't know which one. I can tell you it is most likely from a pistol."

"Russell and Morgan think the gun is silenced. Anything on the bullets to say how?"

"Did Doc find any foreign particulates in the wounds?"

Greg looked at the autopsy report. "No, he didn't."

"Then you're probably looking at a manufacturer made. They leave marks on the bullet similar to the rifling in the barrel, but it's hard to tell without the gun."

Greg had a thought. "Can you check if Marcus Greenaway had a gun registered to him?"

"Sure." Ibarra turned to the computer and typed in the name. "He was denied a license because of the active restraining orders against him."

"Maybe the gun belonged to the unknown male."

"More likely bought off the street, but it's possible."

Hodges poked his head through the door. "Mind if I interrupt?"

"Not if you have something to contribute." Greg turned to the Trace King. "What do you got?"

"I started looking into Marcus Greenaway's life on social media. His Friend Agenda page was helpful. Greenaway chats with a Hugo Alvarez a lot. Now most of the chats don't say anything that we would consider important, but more recently they would post a message saying they needed to talk and to either call or start a private message."

"And we can't track those."

"Correct. I also found messages in the last couple weeks that include initials of someone else they needed to talk to." Hodges held out a page. "This is a screenshot."

Greg took the page. "'We need to talk. Meet me and HS at our usual spot.' Do we know where their usual spot is?"

Hodges shook his head. "I've looked all through their pages. Nothing there suggests where their usual spot is, but I'm guessing that Marcus Greenaway is working with Hugo Alvarez and whoever HS is for their kidnapping games."

"Do you have addresses for them?"

"With the exception of the mysterious HS, I do." Hodges handed Greg another page. "I already gave Russell and Morgan these. They're meeting Ecklie at Greenaway's. Crawford will meet you two at Alvarez's."

Greg turned to Ibarra. "Let's get over there."

Hodges followed them out of Ballistics. "I'll let you know if I get anything from the evidence."

* * *

**A/N: No Sara or Finn in this chapter, but there is some coming. Stay tuned!**


	60. Chapter 60

**Author's Note: I would like to thank taylr, VegasGirl09, and phnxgrl for their reviews. This chapter starts about an hour before the last one ended and will spend a lot more time with Sara and Finn. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 61

Sara swept up the dust from the efforts of Finn's bar wiggling and threw it away from them so their captors wouldn't know what the blonde was doing. Thankfully there was enough dirt on the floor already to hide the wall dust. The keypad beeped on the other side of the door. Finn stopped wiggling the bar and Sara scooted away a little. Two men walked in. One carried a camera and the other carried a sign while wearing a ski mask.

_They're holding us for ransom?_ Considering the stalker nature of Greenaway, the one with the camera, a ransom didn't make sense, unless the ransom was for the two CSIs. He might have other plans for Sharlene. Greenaway turned on the camera and started recording. First, he held the camera back, presumably capturing an image of the three captives. He then moved forward and passed the lens in front of each of their faces before panning the camera toward the sign.

Sara whispered it to herself. "$3 million by midnight or we start killing them."

Greenaway ended the video and lowered the camera. "That should get their attention."

The masked man removed his mask. "I should think so. You've used a lot of my money to pull this off. I'd like to get it back."

"That's why you've kidnapped us?" Sharlene was mad. "We're just here for money?"

"They are. You, my dear, are here for me. I have something special in mind for you."

Sharlene's neck muscles tightened as she shrunk back in fear. Greenaway smirked and the two men left the room. Sara scooted to Sharlene and put a hand on her shoulder. She wanted to reassure her fellow captive that things were going to be all right, but Sara couldn't really convince herself. Finn looked worried. She'd been working on loosening the bar from the wall for a while now, but the progress had been minimal. She would need to make more progress quickly if she wanted to make up for freezing earlier.

Sharlene was shaking. "I never should have gone out with Jeff. This would never have happened if I'd just said no."

Finn wiggled the bar some more. "I get the feeling that dating Jeff isn't what caused this. This is not your fault. Greenaway is to blame. He started this."

Sara nodded. "There are people looking for us. The video they just shot might give them all they need to find us."

"How?"

"Because they're good at their jobs."

Finn was quiet for a moment. "A few months ago, I was being pursued by a serial killer. Our team was able to save me before he could kill me. I'm sure they'll find us too."

"I hope so." Sharlene took a deep breath and exhaled. "Harvey Shortz. The one who took off his mask was Harvey Shortz."

"Well, at least now we've seen all their faces. If they get away, we'll be able to describe them to a sketch artist."

* * *

**Meanwhile...**

Morgan volunteered to go through the ransom video. She'd watched it twice at normal speed and was now going through it frame by frame. There were two bars on that one wall. Finn was handcuffed to one and Sharlene to the other. Sara leaned against the bar wall between the two women. In the corner across from Sharlene, there was a ladder bolted to the wall. The floor everyone was sitting on was dirty. Morgan noticed the way Finn was holding the bar and texted Russell.

She went forward to where the camera was focused on the masked man at the sign. His face was mostly covered by the ski mask, so facial recognition was out, but his skin tone was visible around his eyes and mouth. Suspect number three was white, so it wasn't Marcus Greenaway or Hugo Alvarez. This man was H. Shortz. Now if only they had a first name. She zoomed in on his eyes, which were green. That would help them narrow down the list a bit.

Ibarra walked in. "Henry and I put together a list of all the men with the last name Shortz who had an H starting their first name."

"Great. I can narrow that list down." Morgan took the flash drive Ibarra had and pulled up the list. "H. Shortz is Caucasian with green eyes."

"You got that from..." Ibarra trailed off.

"The video. Marcus Greenaway is African-American and Hugo Alvarez is Hispanic. The guy holding the sign had his face covered by a ski mask, but you could still see his eyes, and the skin around them."

"Good. What does that get us?"

Morgan typed in the filters and hit search. "One name. Harvey Shortz."

"I'll grabbed Greg and head over to his place."

"Okay. I'm going to keep going over this footage. If this isn't at Shortz's place, maybe I'll get something that'll tell us where this is."

Ibarra walked out and Russell came in. "I got your text. What's up?"

"This." Morgan reversed the footage several frames. "See the way Finn is holding the bar?"

"What about it?"

"Okay, look. Sharlene is handcuffed to the bar as well, but her arm is just hanging from it. Finn is holding on."

"So?"

Morgan moved the frame into a side by side split screen and zoomed in on two different points. "This is Sharlene's bar on the right and Finn's bar on the left. The wall connection for Sharlene's bar is flush with the wall. No room to move. Finn's bar is not as close to the wall."

"Oh, I see. She's holding the bar still so the men don't see anything wrong." Russell stood up. "Play the side with Finn slowly." Morgan hit a few buttons and the close up of Finn's bar slowly started to move. "Yeah, it's moving a little. Not enough to notice from a distance, but zoomed in and slowed down like this..."

"Yeah. I'm thinking she's probably trying to free herself so she can get them all out of there." Morgan sighed. "I wish Sara could walk."

"Me, too." Russell turned to leave. "Any chance you can figure out where… where they're being held from the, what do you call it, the metadata?"

"No, the camera is too old to have a GPS. I'm thinking they're in a basement with an external hatch access. The walls are finished and there's a ladder in the corner. I'll see if I can find anything else to narrow down a search area."

"Okay. Keep at it." Russell walked out. "We could really use a break here."

* * *

**Meanwhile...**

"How long have you been paralyzed?" Sara looked up as Sharlene asked her question. "I'm sorry. That was rude."

"No, it's," Sara looked down at her legs, "it's okay. Over a year; almost two years now."

"What happened?"

"You heard about the shooting at the Mediterranean?"

Sharlene nodded. "You were one of the victims?"

Sara nodded and gestured to Finn. "We were attending the forensic conference there. Two shooters decided to attack the conference. They both had different motives, and without a knowledge that the other was there."

Finn was wiggling the bar again. "A friend of mine got hurt by shooter number one."

"I was shot by shooter number two." Sara paused to collect her thoughts. "The bullet hit my spine. Went through it, actually. I haven't been able to feel or use my legs since."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Life's not so bad in a wheelchair, once you get used to it."

"She's a champ." Finn turned to Sharlene. "We're house mates. Most of the time, she doesn't need any help. And the wheelchair she has is pretty cool."

"Really?" Sharlene turned to Sara.

Sara nodded. "Yeah. It can help me stand up."

"I've never seen one like that before."

Sara smiled. "When we get out of here, I'll let you check it out."

"I'd like that."

Sara scooted closer to Finn. "You've built up a pile again."

"It's getting closer. If I can get it loose, we can turn the tables on those guys."

Sara gathered up the pile and threw it across the room. "Is just this side getting loose?"

"Unfortunately. You wouldn't happen to have a coin we can use as a screwdriver to speed this up?"

"I don't use my pants pockets anymore. It's too inconvenient to get into them now."

Finn shook her head. "I used all of mine this afternoon after my doctor's appointment."

"I should see if I can..." The lock on the door started to beep and Sara quickly returned to the wall.

Marcus Greenaway came in with Hugo Alvarez. "Time to go, Shar."

"Go where?"

"You have new accommodations now." He took a key out of his pocket and unlocked the handcuff. "Hugo, switch the arm the cop has cuffed."

"Sure thing." Finn grabbed the bar with her left and Alvarez changed the side that was cuffed. "You girls are being good. Maybe I should bring you a treat."

Meanwhile, Sharlene was beginning to panic. "Where are you taking me? No, let go!"

Greenaway slapped her. "Quiet! Help me get her out of here."

Alvarez turned from Finn, grabbed one of Sharlene's arms, and the two dragged her from the room. Finn and Sara yelled at them, trying to convince the men to leave their new friend alone, but they just ignored the CSIs. Sharlene was struggling the whole way out the door, but the two men were too strong. The door closed most of the way behind them, but it wasn't enough to latch. Sara looked at Finn and then dragged her legs to the door and slowly pulled the door open.

Sara closed the door most of the way again. "If you can get free, we can get out of here."

"I'm trying." Finn was pulling on the bar.

Sara came back over to Finn. "Maybe I can help."

They both worked on wiggling the bar. Even after all of Finn's work, the bar wasn't moving very much. The door moved and the women froze in fear. There was a click as the door was pulled shut and the latch engaged. Finn's shoulders dropped in disappointment. If they were going to get out, they would have to wait.

Finn started working the bar again. "I was really hoping we could get out."

"Yeah. Me, too. And I want to try and rescue Sharlene, too."

"I don't want to know what Greenaway's going to do to her."

"If we're quick, maybe we can stop him."

They lapsed into silence. The bar was pushed and pulled and wiggled. Finn turned herself around and placed her feet against the wall to give herself more leverage. They couldn't hear anything that was happening upstairs, so they concentrated on getting the bar off the wall to free Finn. Suddenly, on the floor above them, pounding footsteps ran across. A second, heavier set ran across, followed by a thud. Sounds of a struggle came from somewhere close by.

"Sharlene." Sara looked at Finn, fear in her eyes.

_**Bang!**_

The sound of a gun going off made Finn and Sara jump in surprise. Then silence. The CSIs held their breath, ears straining to find out what happened.

From upstairs came the sounds of swearing. "You stupid bitch! What did you go and do that for?"

* * *

**A/N: Stay tuned...**


	61. Chapter 61

**Author's Note: I would like to thank taylr, VegasGirl09, and phnxgrl for their reviews. This chapter starts about an hour before the last one ended and will spend a lot more time with Sara and Finn. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 61

Sara swept up the dust from the efforts of Finn's bar wiggling and threw it away from them so their captors wouldn't know what the blonde was doing. Thankfully there was enough dirt on the floor already to hide the wall dust. The keypad beeped on the other side of the door. Finn stopped wiggling the bar and Sara scooted away a little. Two men walked in. One carried a camera and the other carried a sign while wearing a ski mask.

_They're holding us for ransom?_ Considering the stalker nature of Greenaway, the one with the camera, a ransom didn't make sense, unless the ransom was for the two CSIs. He might have other plans for Sharlene. Greenaway turned on the camera and started recording. First, he held the camera back, presumably capturing an image of the three captives. He then moved forward and passed the lens in front of each of their faces before panning the camera toward the sign.

Sara whispered it to herself. "$3 million by midnight or we start killing them."

Greenaway ended the video and lowered the camera. "That should get their attention."

The masked man removed his mask. "I should think so. You've used a lot of my money to pull this off. I'd like to get it back."

"That's why you've kidnapped us?" Sharlene was mad. "We're just here for money?"

"They are. You, my dear, are here for me. I have something special in mind for you."

Sharlene's neck muscles tightened as she shrunk back in fear. Greenaway smirked and the two men left the room. Sara scooted to Sharlene and put a hand on her shoulder. She wanted to reassure her fellow captive that things were going to be all right, but Sara couldn't really convince herself. Finn looked worried. She'd been working on loosening the bar from the wall for a while now, but the progress had been minimal. She would need to make more progress quickly if she wanted to make up for freezing earlier.

Sharlene was shaking. "I never should have gone out with Jeff. This would never have happened if I'd just said no."

Finn wiggled the bar some more. "I get the feeling that dating Jeff isn't what caused this. This is not your fault. Greenaway is to blame. He started this."

Sara nodded. "There are people looking for us. The video they just shot might give them all they need to find us."

"How?"

"Because they're good at their jobs."

Finn was quiet for a moment. "A few months ago, I was being pursued by a serial killer. Our team was able to save me before he could kill me. I'm sure they'll find us too."

"I hope so." Sharlene took a deep breath and exhaled. "Harvey Shortz. The one who took off his mask was Harvey Shortz."

"Well, at least now we've seen all their faces. If they get away, we'll be able to describe them to a sketch artist."

* * *

**Meanwhile...**

Morgan volunteered to go through the ransom video. She'd watched it twice at normal speed and was now going through it frame by frame. There were two bars on that one wall. Finn was handcuffed to one and Sharlene to the other. Sara leaned against the bar wall between the two women. In the corner across from Sharlene, there was a ladder bolted to the wall. The floor everyone was sitting on was dirty. Morgan noticed the way Finn was holding the bar and texted Russell.

She went forward to where the camera was focused on the masked man at the sign. His face was mostly covered by the ski mask, so facial recognition was out, but his skin tone was visible around his eyes and mouth. Suspect number three was white, so it wasn't Marcus Greenaway or Hugo Alvarez. This man was H. Shortz. Now if only they had a first name. She zoomed in on his eyes, which were green. That would help them narrow down the list a bit.

Ibarra walked in. "Henry and I put together a list of all the men with the last name Shortz who had an H starting their first name."

"Great. I can narrow that list down." Morgan took the flash drive Ibarra had and pulled up the list. "H. Shortz is Caucasian with green eyes."

"You got that from..." Ibarra trailed off.

"The video. Marcus Greenaway is African-American and Hugo Alvarez is Hispanic. The guy holding the sign had his face covered by a ski mask, but you could still see his eyes, and the skin around them."

"Good. What does that get us?"

Morgan typed in the filters and hit search. "One name. Harvey Shortz."

"I'll grabbed Greg and head over to his place."

"Okay. I'm going to keep going over this footage. If this isn't at Shortz's place, maybe I'll get something that'll tell us where this is."

Ibarra walked out and Russell came in. "I got your text. What's up?"

"This." Morgan reversed the footage several frames. "See the way Finn is holding the bar?"

"What about it?"

"Okay, look. Sharlene is handcuffed to the bar as well, but her arm is just hanging from it. Finn is holding on."

"So?"

Morgan moved the frame into a side by side split screen and zoomed in on two different points. "This is Sharlene's bar on the right and Finn's bar on the left. The wall connection for Sharlene's bar is flush with the wall. No room to move. Finn's bar is not as close to the wall."

"Oh, I see. She's holding the bar still so the men don't see anything wrong." Russell stood up. "Play the side with Finn slowly." Morgan hit a few buttons and the close up of Finn's bar slowly started to move. "Yeah, it's moving a little. Not enough to notice from a distance, but zoomed in and slowed down like this..."

"Yeah. I'm thinking she's probably trying to free herself so she can get them all out of there." Morgan sighed. "I wish Sara could walk."

"Me, too." Russell turned to leave. "Any chance you can figure out where… where they're being held from the, what do you call it, the metadata?"

"No, the camera is too old to have a GPS. I'm thinking they're in a basement with an external hatch access. The walls are finished and there's a ladder in the corner. I'll see if I can find anything else to narrow down a search area."

"Okay. Keep at it." Russell walked out. "We could really use a break here."

* * *

**Meanwhile...**

"How long have you been paralyzed?" Sara looked up as Sharlene asked her question. "I'm sorry. That was rude."

"No, it's," Sara looked down at her legs, "it's okay. Over a year; almost two years now."

"What happened?"

"You heard about the shooting at the Mediterranean?"

Sharlene nodded. "You were one of the victims?"

Sara nodded and gestured to Finn. "We were attending the forensic conference there. Two shooters decided to attack the conference. They both had different motives, and without a knowledge that the other was there."

Finn was wiggling the bar again. "A friend of mine got hurt by shooter number one."

"I was shot by shooter number two." Sara paused to collect her thoughts. "The bullet hit my spine. Went through it, actually. I haven't been able to feel or use my legs since."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Life's not so bad in a wheelchair, once you get used to it."

"She's a champ." Finn turned to Sharlene. "We're house mates. Most of the time, she doesn't need any help. And the wheelchair she has is pretty cool."

"Really?" Sharlene turned to Sara.

Sara nodded. "Yeah. It can help me stand up."

"I've never seen one before."

Sara smiled. "When we get out of here, I'll let you check it out."

"I'd like that."

Sara scooted closer to Finn. "You've built up a pile again."

"It's getting closer. If I can get it loose, we can turn the tables on those guys."

Sara gathered up the pile and threw it across the room. "Is just this side getting loose?"

"Unfortunately. You wouldn't happen to have a coin we can use as a screwdriver to speed this up?"

"I don't use my pants pockets anymore. It's too inconvenient to get into them now."

Finn shook her head. "I used all of mine this afternoon after my doctor's appointment."

"I should see if I can..." The lock on the door started to beep and Sara quickly returned to the wall.

Marcus Greenaway came in with Hugo Alvarez. "Time to go, Shar."

"Go where?"

"You have new accommodations now." He took a key out of his pocket and unlocked the handcuff. "Hugo, switch the arm the cop has cuffed."

"Sure thing." Finn grabbed the bar with her left and Alvarez changed the side that was cuffed. "You girls are being good. Maybe I should bring you a treat."

Meanwhile, Sharlene was beginning to panic. "Where are you taking me? No, let go!"

Greenaway slapped her. "Quiet! Help me get her out of here."

Alvarez turned from Finn, grabbed one of Sharlene's arms, and the two dragged her from the room. Finn and Sara yelled at them, trying to convince the men to leave their new friend alone, but they just ignored the CSIs. Sharlene was struggling the whole way out the door, but the two men were too strong. The door closed most of the way behind them, but it wasn't enough to latch. Sara looked at Finn and then dragged her legs to the door and slowly pulled the door open.

Sara closed the door most of the way again. "If you can get free, we can get out of here."

"I'm trying." Finn was pulling on the bar.

Sara came back over to Finn. "Maybe I can help."

They both worked on wiggling the bar. Even after all of Finn's work, the bar wasn't moving very much. The door moved and the women froze in fear. There was a click as the door was pulled shut and the latch engaged. Finn's shoulders dropped in disappointment. If they were going to get out, they would have to wait.

Finn started working the bar again. "I was really hoping we could get out."

"Yeah. Me, too. And I want to try and rescue Sharlene too."

"I don't want to know what Greenaway's going to do to her."

"If we're quick, maybe we can stop him."

They lapsed into silence. The bar was pushed and pulled and wiggled. Finn turned herself around and placed her feet against the wall to give herself more leverage. They couldn't hear anything that was happening upstairs, so they concentrated on getting the bar off the wall to free Finn. Suddenly, on the floor above them, pounding footsteps ran across. A second, heavier set ran across, followed by a thud. Sounds of a struggle came from somewhere close by.

"Sharlene." Sara looked at Finn, fear in her eyes.

_**Bang!**_

The sound of a gun going off made Finn and Sara jump in surprise. Then silence. The CSIs held their breath, ears straining to find out what happened.

From upstairs came the sounds of swearing. "You stupid bitch! What did you go and do that for?"

* * *

**A/N: Stay tuned...**


	62. Chapter 62

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank VegasGirl09, phnxgrl, and taylr for their reviews. This chapter starts before the last one ended. Enjoy!**

**P.S.: I will be out of town next week and I don't know if I'll have access to the internet, so there may be a delay on the next chapter. I hope I'll be somewhere with internet, but I thought I should warn you guys just in case there isn't.**

* * *

Chapter 62

Greg pulled the SUV into a spot in front of the rental office for Schwartz's building. Ibarra hopped out first and scanned his eyes over the apartment building. It was a much nicer building than the one Alvarez had lived in. He grabbed his kit from the back seat and followed Greg inside. No one was at the desk, but they could hear the TV on in the office. Greg rang the bell on the desk and the TV turned off.

A fat, balding man came out of the office. "Gentlemen. How can I help you? Apartment shopping?"

"Uh, no. We're with the LVPD. We need to see the apartment Harvey Shortz rents."

"Shortz. Let me grab the log book." The man went into the office and came out with a big book. "That name sounds familiar." He flipped to the S's and ran his finger down the page. "There he is. And that's why the name is familiar."

Greg looked at the page. "What is it?"

"He moved out 2 weeks ago."

Ibarra set his kit down. "Did he leave a forwarding?"

The man who shook his head. "I don't have one here. He might have given it to the post office. The new tenant hasn't complained about any mail of his being left in her box."

"We'd like to speak to her."

"Sure. Follow me." The man led them to the apartment and knocked on the door. "So what's this all about?"

"It's an ongoing investigation." Ibarra looked at the door as it opened. "We'll take it from here."

"Sure." The man turned to the woman at the door. "These men are with the police. They have some questions for you."

The woman turned to Greg. "What about?"

"We have some questions about the previous tenant. May we come in?"

"Uh, sure." She opened the door wider and they went in. "I never met him."

"This won't take long, Miss..." Greg trailed off.

"Evans. Liliana Evans."

"I'm CSI Arturo Ibarra and this is CSI Greg Sanders." Ibarra set his kit down. "Does any mail for Harvey Shortz arrive here?"

"Junk mail. I haven't gotten any real mail."

"Do you have a forwarding address for him?"

She shook her head. "No. He hasn't come by, either."

"Did he leave anything behind?"

"No. The apartment was empty when I saw it for the first time."

Greg set his kit down. "This is going to sound strange, but may we take a look in your closet?"

"My closet?" Mrs. Evans was confused.

"It'll only take a moment."

"I... guess?"

"Thank you."

Greg went into her bedroom and straight for the closet. He shined his light on the back wall. Just like at Alvarez's apartment, the wallpaper in the closet had been cut. Greg found the top corners and pressed. Two soft clicks confirmed his suspicions.

Miss Evans and Ibarra were watching as he opened it up. "What is that?"

"A hidden compartment. This is the third we've found."

Ibarra stepped up to the closet doorway. "Anything in it?"

"No. It's empty." Greg closed the compartment. "We're sorry to intrude."

"That's okay." Evans had her eyes focused on the closet. "I didn't know that was there."

"It's easy to miss. Thank you for your time, Miss Evans."

They saw themselves out and returned to the SUV. Greg called Russell and put the phone on speaker. "Russell, its Greg and Ibarra."

"_Hey. What did you guys find?_"

"Harvey Shortz's place is a bust. He moved out two weeks ago."

"_Of course he did. Did you find anything?_"

"The current tenant let us in. We found another hidden compartment, but it was empty."

"_Was there anything helpful there?_"

"Apparently real mail hasn't been arriving here, junk mail has, but he didn't leave a forwarding." Ibarra cleared his throat. "We're thinking he may have filed one with the post office."

"_Find out if he did. That may be where Finn and Sara are being held_."

"We'll call back when we find something." Greg ended the call and started the car.

* * *

**Meanwhile...**

Morgan stood, stretched, and exited the A/V room in a huff. She'd put together a list of descriptions for the basement, the video, and the metadata, but there was nothing in those lists that would help them find that basement. She was frustrated and scared for her friends. She went into the break room and poured herself a coffee, trying to calm her nerves.

Russell walked in. "Ecklie's been working with cadets from the police academy scrubbing traffic camera footage. They've been tracking our three suspects' cars. All of them have left the city. We don't know where they end up, but wherever it is, its North East of here."

"Including the car Finn and Sara were in?"

"Looks like it."

Morgan dumped a packet of sugar in her coffee. "I have lists of everything I could find, but I won't be able to narrow down a search area with that."

Hodges walked in. "There you are, Russell. I've identified what was stinking up the fridge. It was rotting meat. I had Henry run the fridge swabs for DNA and he got Odocoileus hemionus, also known as the Mule Deer."

Morgan's ears perked up. "Mule Deer? Those are found all over Nevada, but hunting is generally only allowed a few miles west of Lake Tahoe."

"That's a large area, but smaller than the whole state."

Morgan was stirring her coffee. "That only means he hunted there or got meat from someone who did."

Russell frowned. "You're right. And it's North West of here. They went North East. Did you check for property records?"

Morgan nodded. "Yeah. No one holds any properties in their names."

"Boy, we just can't catch a break today."

Hodges handed Russell the findings. "Nick called for an update. I told him what I knew."

"Okay. I should update Ecklie." Russell turned and left.

* * *

**Meanwhile...**

After the gunshot, Sara stopped pulling the bar and started sweeping the dust they'd generated away from the wall. Finn poked the loose bits of drywall back in place and turned back around. A few moments later, footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs. Sara scooted around Finn so she was further from the door and leaned against the wall. The two glanced at each other and then turned their heads to look at the door as the lock beeped.

The door opened and Greenaway stepped inside. "Sharlene's dead. What did you tell her?"

Both women gasped. "Nothing."

He flew at Sara in a rage and wrapped his hands around her throat. "Don't tell me you said nothing! I know the way you cops think!"

Finn was grabbing at the back of his shirt. "Leave her alone! She didn't do anything!"

"You cops are all the same! You're just looking for excuses to lock people up!"

Sara was gasping for air. "Get... off..."

Shortz and Alvarez rushed inside and pulled Greenaway off Sara. "Calm down. She's no good to us dead. Not yet, at least."

Greenway brushed them off and stormed back upstairs. Sara stayed where Greenway had knocked her down. She was taking shaky breaths and coughing. Finn went back to pulling on the bar as soon as Shortz and Alvarez left, swearing under her breath. Sara wanted to curl up in a ball and cry. Vanessa Redmond was right when she said that everyone loved Sharlene. In the few hours that Sara had gotten to know her, Sharlene had become her friend. And now she was gone.

Finn turned to Sara. "Help me with this."

Sara pushed off the ground and scooted back to the bar. The amount of movement the bar had with each wiggle slowly increased until at last it came free from the wall. Sara, unable to use her legs as a counterbalance, was thrown backward. The bar came with her and smacked her just above her right eye.

"Sara! Are you okay?"

"Ow." Sara struggled to sit up. "That hurt."

"You're bleeding." Finn gently touched the area around the cut.

"Ow." Sara pressed her hand to the cut.

"Careful. You'll get it dirty."

"That's not the biggest concern right now. Can you get that handcuff off the bar?"

Finn slid the side of the cuff attached to the bar to where the bar had been connected to the wall. "Dammit. No, I can't. The loop is too small. Wait..." She wiggled the connecting piece. "I might be able to do this."

Sara grabbed a napkin that had been left from lunch and pressed it to her head wound. Finn wiggled the connection ring down the bar and finally got it off. She slipped the handcuff off the bar and opened the side that wasn't around her wrist. She then attached the wall connection to that side of the handcuff.

Finn notice Sara's quizzical look. "It gives me a weapon if they come in before we're out." She flipped the connector into her hand. "See?"

Sara nodded. "Good idea. Now what?"

* * *

**A/N: They're loose! What happens next? Stay tuned to find out...**


	63. Chapter 63

**Author's Note: I know this chapter is a few hours early, but I won't have internet later, so here you go. I'd like to thank Green Penguin with Cool Socks, VegasGirl09, phnxgrl, and taylr for their reviews, and a special shout out to Foxfire832001 for all your reviews. Welcome to the story, and I'm glad you're liking it.**** taylr: I wasn't sure if I would have internet. So glad that didn't happen. Green Penguin: Glad you liked the chapter (P.S. your screen name is awesome!)**

**This chapter starts before the last one ended, and begins in Greg's POV. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 63

Greg left the post office disappointed. Ibarra drove them back to the lab and the two men went to go find Russell. He was in the layout room with Ecklie, going over all the evidence. Ecklie noticed the pair and waved them in. Russell finished his report by telling the Sheriff about some disappointing information Morgan had uncovered a few minutes ago.

Ecklie nodded. "I've talked to the other sheriffs in the state. They've all put out a bulletin on the suspects' cars. We'll get a call if they see any of them." Ecklie turned to Greg. "Tell me you guys found something we can use."

"Shortz put all his mail on hold. When he requested the hold, he said he was in the middle of moving and wouldn't have a new address for about a month."

Ecklie shook his head. "This was all very well thought out. There's no way this was all planned and prepared in a month."

Russell looked up. "Hang on. If there's a hold on his mail, how did Miss Evans get some of his mail?"

"The hold is only applying to enveloped mail." Ibarra leaned back against the wall. "Everything else is going right through."

Morgan ran in. "Another video came in on the tablet."

"When?" Russell followed her out.

"Just now. I'm recording it."

Everyone followed Morgan into the A/V room. On the screen, the video faded to black. Morgan pulled up the recording and pushed play. The ski mask wearing man from before was sitting in front of a camera. On the table in front of him were pieces of cardboard. He picked up the first piece and turned it to the camera.

Russell read it out loud. "'_One hostage is_ _dead_.'"

Ecklie folded his arms. "So much for waiting till midnight."

"'_She died while trying to escape_.'" Russell narrated the second sign.

Greg read the third. "'_That leaves the cripple and one other_.'"

Morgan read the fourth. "'_We'll dump the blonde's body_'... Oh, my God. Finn."

The rest of the sign said, "…_in the desert_." The group was silent as the final sign was shown, "_$3 million by midnight. The cripple is next_."

Morgan sat down. "I was glad when I saw Finn was trying to get free. Now I feel sick."

Greg nodded. "Finn's dead and Sara's next. We're running out of time."

"The department won't pay the $3 million. We can't negotiate with them. It sets a precedent."

"Conrad, we know." Russell sighed. "Okay. Besides the rotten meat and traffic footage, do we have anything that tells us where they took the girls?"

"All we know is North East."

"We gotta know something more. Come on, think."

Morgan looked up, grief in her eyes. "Hunting for mule deer was east of Lake Tahoe. If that's not where they are, maybe that's where they'll take Finn's body."

"That's a start. Greg, Ibarra, head up there and keep your eyes open."

"We're on it."

"Morgan..."

"The video; got it." She turned to the screen.

Ecklie turned to leave. "I'll talk to the other sheriffs again. Have someone meet Greg and Ibarra up there and see if they've found anything."

Russell walked out with Ecklie. Morgan got started on the video, but an hour later, she was frozen. Finn was gone. She'd only just come out of her coma a couple months ago. To be killed trying to escape and get help was not right. A tear slipped down Morgan's cheek, followed by another.

Hodges walked in. "Morgan. What's wrong?"

"It's Finn. The kidnappers killed her."

"How do you know?"

Morgan played video from the beginning. "They sent us this."

At the end, Hodges turned to Morgan. "That's it?"

"That's it? Did you watch it?"

"If they had killed Finn, they would show us her body to prove it. I think this is to try and make us think that we have to pay the money to save Sara."

Morgan shook her head. "How can you be so sure?"

"Until I see a body, I'm choosing to believe that Finn's alive." Hodges sat down next to Morgan. "That way I can still do my job. She needs us to do our jobs. They both do."

* * *

**Meanwhile...**

Finn pulled on the door, but it didn't budge. "We're stuck." She sat down and started rocking. "We'll never get out."

Sara dragged her body over to the blonde. "Finn, you can't freeze on me now. You're the one with the makeshift weapon."

"There's three of them and one of me. It's hopeless!"

"No. I refuse to believe that. You are one of the strongest women I know. When Katie was kidnapped, you're the one who took on two armed, dirty cops to get her out. You can handle these guys."

"I'm not nearly as strong as you."

"Not sitting there on the floor, you're not. Finn, I need your help if we're both going to make it out of here alive. You can do this."

Finn was shaking. "You think so?"

Sara looked her friend in the eye. "I know so."

Finn nodded and looked around the basement. After a moment, she stood and headed for the ladder. "I wonder..."

"What?"

"Sharlene and I were handcuffed to the bars and you can't walk. When we were brought in and you asked to not be handcuffed, they asked if you could climb a ladder, so I'm wondering if they bothered to lock the hatch."

"Gotcha."

Finn tugged on the ladder. "Seems sturdy." She quickly climbed the ladder and pushed on the hatch gently. Sara heard a squeak and a soft curse. A couple minutes later, Finn came back down.

Sara had stayed by the door to listen. "No luck?"

"No, the hatch is open. I just had to move it very slowly so it wouldn't squeak again. The SUV is gone. I think they're dumping Sharlene's body."

Sara nodded. "You should go and get help."

"What are you talking about? We're both leaving."

"I can't climb the ladder, Finn. You know that."

"On your own, no. If I help you, we can make it. As long as you can hold yourself upright, we can do this."

Sara looked over at the ladder, trepidation in her voice. "Okay."

"Go over there. See if you can stand up on your own."

Sara scooted over to the ladder and sat next to it, trying to figure out how to use it to stand. She decided to stick her feet under the bottom rung and pull herself up that way. Finn was standing next to the door until Sara was upright. As soon as Sara was standing, clutching the ladder for stability, Finn came over and stood close behind her.

"I'll move your feet, you'll pull yourself up. I'll be supporting you the whole way."

Sara nodded. "Okay."

"Ready?" Finn was bent over, holding one of Sara's legs.

Sara reached a hand up to the next rung. "Yeah."

Finn moved Sara's foot up to the next rung. "Pull up."

Sara pulled up. The leg on the bottom rung straightened, dragging her other leg behind it. Finn helped to direct where Sara's body went so her friend could concentrate on pulling straight up. When Sara's leg was straight again, Finn moved the limp leg to the next rung and the process happened again. Soon Sara was high enough off the ground for Finn to need to get on the ladder to help Sara. Progress was slow, but they were getting closer to the hatch.

The door to the room opened. "What the..."

"Sara, hold on!" Finn dropped from the ladder and flipped the connector into her hand.

Shortz kicked the door closed and pulled a gun from the holster on his hip. Finn dodged as he fired and then rushed Shortz before he could get another shot off. The connector was slammed into his face and he dropped the gun when she followed it up with a knee to his groin. He howled in pain and dropped to the floor. Finn pressed her advantage, kicking him in the gut and then his head. He got quiet and his eyes slid closed.

Finn knelt down and checked his pulse. "He's still alive." She checked his pockets. "Keys. Great."

Sara was clinging to the ladder. "Can we use the door?"

Finn checked the door again. "No. Dammit. It locked when he closed it." She opened both sides of the handcuffs and cuffed his hands behind his back, then checked her right arm. "He tagged me. Damn, that hurts." She pressed a hand to the wound and searched his pockets some more.

"Finn, hurry. I can't hold myself like this forever."

"I know, hold on." She found a pocket knife in his pocket. "Perfect."

She flipped it open and cut a strip from the bottom of Shortz's shirt, using it to wrap her wound. She pocketed the knife, took the holster off Shortz's belt, and attached it to her own. She then grabbed the gun and holstered it. _Now I'm armed at least_. Finn also pocketed the car keys so they would have a car when they got out.

"Okay, that should get us out of here."

Finn climbed back to her spot beneath Sara and the brunette nodded. "Let's go."

One rung at a time, the pair slowly made their way to the top. Finn's arm was killing her, but she bit her tongue so as to not discourage Sara. Sara's arms were beginning to shake from the effort involved to pull her body weight up a ladder with just her arms. Finn's support and guidance was helping, but the journey was still tough. At long last, they made it to the top. Sara was so tired, she couldn't pull herself over the edge without a better grip, so Finn climbed around her to get out and then helped pull Sara out of the hole. Sara pulled her body a couple feet away from the hatch before collapsing in exhaustion. Finn closed the hatch carefully in case Greenaway and Alvarez had returned. The Explorer was still gone, so probably not.

"Let's never do that again." Sara turned to look at Finn. "Ever."

Finn nodded, panting in exhaustion. "I agree. I'm gonna go get the car. I'll be right back."

Finn fished the keys out of her pocket and went over to where the Lexus RC F was parked. She unlocked the doors and climbed inside. The interior expressed how vain Shortz was. Finn knew cars. She knew the interior was the highest quality you can buy, so the car as a whole was probably just as nice. She was going to enjoy using this car for their escape. The engine roared to life and Finn drove over to where Sara was. She got out and grabbed Sara, lifting her to pull her around the car to get in the passenger side. Sara opened the door and helped Finn set her down in the seat. While the brunette moved her legs into the car and shut the door, Finn went back around the car and got in too.

She put the car in drive and started down the road. "The house number is 15692. Keep an eye out for the street name."

"Finn, your arm."

"I'm okay. It hurts, but I'll live."

Sara looked out the window. "There's a street sign. Slow down."

Finn slowed the car. "Margrove Lane. Let's get out of here. Right or left?"

"I don't remember how we turned in. Let's go left."

"Left it is."

* * *

**A/N: And they're out! Stay tuned!**


	64. Chapter 64

**Author's Note: I'dd like to thank taylr, VegasGirl09, phnxgrl, and Foxfire832001 for their reviews. taylr: Grissom will be a part of the story. I am in the process of adapting the series finale episode next (with obvious changes). The beginning of that "episode" might take a week or two after the last chapter of this case to post, but it will be adapted. My initial draft of this "episode" had Grissom and Nick in because I started writing it before Nick went to San Diego. Once I saw the series finale, I realized there was a better way for Grissom to see Sara's new situation, so I rewrote this episode again. He will be making his appearance in this story soon though, so don't worry. Foxfire832001: I love Henry and Hodges too. This chapter starts a few minutes before the last one ended and is, once again, in Greg's POV. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 64

Greg and Ibarra pulled off the highway near Hawthorne and met with the sheriff's deputy waiting for them in the parking lot of the nearby diner. He shook their hands, introduced himself as Officer McCallister, and welcomed them to Mineral County. He then grabbed a tablet out of his car and pulled up the information they were looking for.

"When I got the APB for those vehicles, I remembered ticketing one a few days ago. The Ford Explorer. I pulled up that file and discovered they'd been ticketed two other times as well. Here," McCallister handed Greg the tablet, "that's the file."

"All three parking violations happened near Rose Creek Road. Where is that?"

"Up the highway a bit more." McCallister handed them the map. "I marked the route for you in case we get separated. Follow me, I'll take you up there."

They followed McAlister's vehicle up to the spot where the Explorer had been illegally parked a few days ago. Greg and Ibarra got out of their SUV and looked around. It was dark here, so visibility was low. Greg took his flashlight out of his vest pocket and clicked it on. They were on a road going through the middle of a forest. On the dirt shoulder were fresh tire tracks.

Greg pointed them out to Ibarra. "This can't be more than a day old."

Ibarra used his flashlight to illuminate something on the ground. "I've got blood."

Greg grabbed his kit and pulled out an ABAcard HemaTrace tool. "Please be animal." He ran the test. "It's human."

"I've got a trail." Ibarra used his light to find the blood drops. "These are fresh."

Greg looked at Ibarra, a grim look on his face. "Finn."

They followed the trail into the woods. McAlester followed them, scanning their surroundings. The CSI's were concentrating on the blood trail. It was sometimes hard to see where the drops were in the dirt, but they could tell they were fresh. Greenaway and his friends must have come through just a few minutes before they did. Greg shined his light ahead of them and noticed what looked like a tarp.

Greg tapped Ibarra's arm with the back of his hand. "Hey, up there."

"I see it."

They hurried forward and stopped by the tarp. Heeled boots poked out of one end. There was a body in there. The two gloved up and McAllister used his flashlight to light up the area. Greg grabbed the corner where Finn's head was and Ibarra took the end by the feet. They nodded to each other and peeled back the tarp.

Greg's fears were alleviated when he saw the victim's face. "That's not Finn. They killed Sharlene. She's the one who tried to escape."

"So why'd they say it was Finn who was killed?"

"To make us desperate. We need to find that car."

"I'll update the APB." McAllister grabbed his radio. "Control, this is Officer McAllister. I need to update the APB on that Explorer. Occupants dumped a body in the Mt. Grant area a few minutes ago."

"_Copy, Officer McAllister. Sending crime scene and coroner to your location. APB has been updated._"

Greg pulled out his phone. "I'll call Russell."

* * *

**Meanwhile...**

Russell sat in his office with the door closed. Finn had just been getting back into the swing of things at work. He'd watch as Sara and Finn had gotten closer as friends. They had both been through terrible ordeals in the past couple years, so naturally each had become the other's support system. He'd enjoyed seeing Sara bring the light back into Julie's eyes. She'd been jumpy and skittish when she'd woken from the coma. Sara had helped her relax.

And now she was gone. Russell had sent Greg and Ibarra out to look for Finn's body. Sara was next if they didn't pay the ransom in the next two hours. Ecklie would never authorize a payment and Russell knew he had no way of affording it. Out the corner of his eye, he noticed that anyone passing his office would glance in to check on him. _Let them look. He needed a moment_.

Russell's phone rang. "Yeah, Greg, what'd you find?"

"_Finn might still be alive. Sharlene is the hostage they killed. She's the one who tried to escape_."

"Hold- hold on. Say that again?"

"_We found Sharlene's body. Finn might still be alive_."

"That might be the first bit of good news we've had all day. What does the scene tell you?"

"_They came through here to dump the body just a few minutes ago. Officer McAllister updated the APB on the Explorer_."

"Great. Process the scene with the local CSI's and keep me posted."

"_You got it_."

Russell hung up and then opened his office door. "Morgan!"

She poked her head out of the A/V lab. "Yeah?"

"Send a message to the kidnappers. Tell them we have the money and need somewhere to make the drop. We need to buy Sara a little time."

* * *

**Meanwhile...**

Sara kept a hand over Finn's wound, applying pressure. "This bleeding just won't stop. The bullet must have hit something."

Finn groaned as Sara's hand was jostled by a bump in the road. "I expected to see a rest stop before now."

"There's not a lot out here. I'm pretty sure we're heading east too."

"Good. Maybe they'll think we headed for Vegas."

Sara noticed a large sign up ahead. "I see something. 'Welcome to Utah'? I guess we were heading east. Delta, Utah is in 88 miles. Hopefully we'll see a rest stop before that."

Finn shook her head. "I'm starting to get light-headed."

"Stay with me, Julie. If you pass out, we might die. 88 miles, that's all we have left to go."

"Right, 88 miles. I can do this. Time to see what this baby can do."

With Finn behind the wheel, it took a little under an hour for the 88 miles to melt away. When they reached Delta, the highway became the main street. Finn pulled off the road and into a gas station parking lot before leaning against her seat back. The pain of her injury was making her drowsy and the task to get them here was finally over. Sara leaned over and honked the horn until someone came out.

He tapped on the window. "What is wrong with you? I'll call the cops."

"Finn, you need to roll down the window." The blonde complied with Sara's request. "Please do. My friend's been shot and I can't walk. Honking was the only way I could get someone's attention."

The cashier raised the phone in his hand. "She's really been shot?"

Sara displayed a blood-stained hand. "Yes. We need police and paramedics. And when they're here, I'll need to use your phone to call our LVPD supervisor."

"Yeah, sure. I'll get someone to bring you guys inside."

"Thanks."

The cashier ran back inside with the phone pressed to his ear. A few moments later, two men came out to the car. Finn's door was opened first and Sara explained what had happened so the men could get her out of the car without losing pressure on her injury. Once one of the men was holding Finn and her injury, the other came around to get Sara. Inside, Finn had been set down on a chair from the neighboring restaurant. Sara was set down on a matching chair and given a couple wipes for her hands.

When her hands were cleaner, a cell phone was handed to her. "I was told you needed to make a call."

"Thank you." Sara dialed Russell's number.

* * *

**Meanwhile...**

Morgan and Russell were in the A/V room. "I sent a message to the kidnappers about the ransom. Told them we have the money and just need a place to make the drop. I haven't heard back yet."

Russell checked his watch. "It's just after 11. We don't have a lot of time."

Hodges ran into the room. "I might have found them. Shortz has a grandfather who recently passed away. There's a house in **his** name. The address is 15692 Margrove Lane off of North Fence Road."

Russell's phone rang. "Great work, Hodges. Hello?"

"_Russell, its Sara_."

"Sara? Hold on, I'll put you on speaker."

"_Who all is there?_" Sara's voice was a wonderful thing to hear.

Morgan listed off the names. "Russell, Hodges and me."

"_I'm here with Finn. We got away. We're in Delta, Utah now. She's been shot in the arm, but she's okay_."

"_Hey, guys. Ow_."

"Julie, you're alive." Russell smiled.

Finn's voice was hesitant. "_Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?_"

Morgan quickly jumped in. "The kidnappers sent a message implying you'd been killed trying to escape."

"_No. That was Sharlene. They were moving her to another room. I don't know what happened, but she was killed_." It was Sara's turn to wince.

"Are you hurt too, Sara?" Russell's brow had contracted in concern.

"_Nothing major. The bar hit me when it came out of the wall. Long story. Listen, we know the identities of the men who took us_..."

"Marcus Greenaway, Hugo Alvarez and Harvey Shortz." Morgan winked at Hodges and mouthed "you're up next" to him.

"_You guys have been busy_."

Finn cleared her throat. "_We got the address where we were being held on our way out_..."

Hodges took his cue. "15692 Margrove Lane off of North Fence Road?"

"_How did you...?_"

Hodges smirked. "I'm not just a pretty face."

Sara laughed. "_No, you're not. Where are Greg and Ibarra?_"

"Processing the scene where Sharlene's body was found." Russell looked up from the phone and saw Ecklie. "Conrad. Sara and Finn managed to escape. They're calling from Delta, Utah."

Ecklie entered the A/V lab. "Are you guys okay?"

"_We're a little banged up, but we'll live_."

Ecklie smiled. "I'll send a unit to collect you. Where exactly are you?"

An unfamiliar voice answered. "_Sinclair Gas. We've called for a sheriff and paramedics. They should be here any second_."

"_Thank you. I think Finn's passed out. See you guys soon_."

"Bye, Sara." Russell hung up the phone and turned to Ecklie. "I'd like to..."

Ecklie nodded. "Go. Take Morgan and Sara's chair. Bring them home."

* * *

**A/N: Stay tuned!**


	65. Chapter 65

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank phnxgrl, VegasGirl09, and taylr for their reviews. This chapter starts a few hours after the last one ended. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 65

It took over three hours for Russell and Morgan to get to the gas station Sara had called from. The Lexus RC-F that belonged to Harvey Shortz had crime scene tape surrounding it and a lone State Trooper was standing by it. There wasn't an ambulance in the parking lot. Russell was guessing Finn and Sara had already been taken away. He pulled the car over by the State Trooper and rolled down the window.

"Did they already take my CSI's away?"

"You Russell?"

"I am."

The trooper came over. "Here," he handed a paper to Russell, "that's the address of the hospital. It's not too far away."

"Thank you. Are local CSI's on their way to process the car?"

"Not exactly. We don't really have a crime scene unit here. There is a team coming in from Provo. It might be another hour before they arrive because of the distance. All I know is the sheriff called them about an hour ago."

"Thanks for your help." Russell pulled out of the parking lot and handed the paper to Morgan. "Program that…"

"On it." She punched the address into her phone and pulled up the directions. "Go east for half a mile."

A few minutes later, they parked in the hospital lot and hurried inside with Russell pushing Sara's wheelchair. The front desk had been told they were coming and they were quickly told the pair had been airlifted to a hospital in Provo. Russell asked for the address and the two rushed back out to the SUV. Russell called Ecklie to update him on the pair's location and Morgan punched the address into her phone.

It took another hour and a half to get there, but they were escorted right to where Sara was when they arrived. The pair stepped off the elevator and Morgan took the lead in the hallway to the large exam room. It looked like an ER with beds spaced around the room and curtains between each, but the flurry of activity was absent and all the beds were currently empty. On the far side of the room, Sara was sitting in a hospital wheelchair taking off her shoes.

"Sara." Morgan ran forward and embraced the brunette. "You're okay."

Sara returned the hug. "I'm glad to see you too. And you, Russell." She noticed her chair. "And my chair. I don't have to stay in this one."

Russell parked the chair where Sara could transition to it easily. "Where's Finn?"

Sara's arms shook as she settled into the chair. "She's in surgery. Her arm wouldn't stop bleeding, so they went to patch that up."

Morgan pointed to Sara's head. "How bad is that?"

"Four stitches. Not that bad. I may have a scar now, but that's okay. Just one more to add to my collection." Sara touched the gauze pad covering her injury. "It hurt, but Finn was able to get loose after that, so it was worth it."

Russell put a hand on Sara's shoulder. "I'm glad you're safe. How- how did you get out of that basement?"

"There was a ladder. Finn helped me climb it."

"How?"

"I pulled up. Finn would move my feet and guide my body. It took a lot of effort. My arms are not happy with me right now."

Russell's phone rang. "Russell. Hey, Conrad, hold- hold on. I'm gonna put you on speaker." Russell hit the button. "Okay, go ahead."

"_Police in White Pine County raided the house where the suspects were holding Sara and Finn. Harvey Shortz was found handcuffed in the basement, but the other two weren't there. A stakeout has been set up. No guarantees they'll show. Am I to assume Finn had something to do with Shortz's arrest and injuries?_"

Sara chuckled. "Yeah."

Ecklie sounded like he was smiling. "_Is that you, Sara?_"

"We're with her right now, yeah." Russell couldn't stop the grin on his face from showing. "Finn's in surgery."

Ecklie cleared his throat. "_Greg called with an update. They're done there. The body is on its way to Doc right now_."

"Have Hodges check if- if either remaining fugitives have properties in family names or family in the area."

"_He's already on it. Call me when you've got an update on Finn_."

"Will do." Russell hung up. "What do you remember about Sharlene's death? I'm- I'm sorry to have to do this…"

"Hey, no, it's fine. I get it. Um, well, I couldn't see anything. We were in the basement still, and Sharlene was upstairs with them. There was running and a thud, like someone got tackled. Then it sounded like there was a struggle and a gun went off. After that, it was silent for a bit, and then Greenaway started swearing and said, 'You stupid bitch. What did you go and do that for?' At first, I thought she'd managed to shoot him, but I didn't hear her at all after that."

"That's when you knew tha- that she was dead?"

"I only knew she was dead when Greenaway came downstairs and tried to strangle me."

Morgan's brow creased. "What for?"

Sara turned to Morgan. "He thought Finn and I might have told her to try and escape or something. The other two pulled him off me."

Finn was brought into the room in a wheelchair, her arm in bandages. "Russell! Morgan! I am soooo glad to see you."

Morgan could tell Finn was a little out of it. "What did you take?"

Finn shrugged. "The doctors gave me something for the pain. Are we going home now?"

Russell smiled at Finn. "Let's see what your doctor has to say about that. Why aren't you already in a bed?"

"She had a fit about being on a gurney when she came back up here. She wanted to walk, but we finally convinced her to let us to adhere to hospital policy." The nurse brought Finn to a bed. "Up you get."

"Fine." Finn stood and almost fell over. The nurse caught her and helped her climb into the bed. "I'm not tired."

"You will be. For now, just rest. You're safe in here." The nurse turned to Sara. "You should be resting too."

"It's not like I can get up and walk away. My wheelchair is just as good a resting spot as a bed."

The nurse turned to Russell. "Are they always like this?"

"All my people are like this. You get used to it after a while."

"Keep Ms. Finlay in bed." They all turned as they heard a snore; Finn had fallen asleep. "That'll help."

"Thank you." Russell turned to Sara. "You should probably get some sleep too."

Sara rolled her chair to the bed next to Finn. "I'll need some help." She locked the wheels. "My arms are spent."

Morgan went over to her. "Put your arms around me." Sara complied and Morgan lifted her up to the bed. "Get some rest. We'll still be here when you wake up."

* * *

Finn was discharged the next morning with instructions to take it easy and not lift anything with her arm for a couple weeks. Sara was cleared to return to work and told to keep her wound clean. Morgan held onto all the discharge paperwork, instructions and medications while Russell pushed Finn's wheelchair and Sara propelled her own. Russell had some news to share, but he wanted to wait until they were on the road.

Russell stowed Sara's chair in the back and got behind the wheel. "Let's go home."

Finn's arm was making her a little irritable. "Tell me you guys got them."

Russell pulled out onto the main road. "We found Shortz where you left him. He was just waking up. Ecklie set up a stakeout with the locals. Greenaway and Alvarez returned around five in the morning. Both were drunk. Turns out they had gone to a bar a couple towns away."

"Marcus mourning Sharlene's death." Sara touched the gauze over her eye. "Glad they picked that route over strangling me."

"Me too. Anyway, Ecklie texted a couple hours ago to say they were both in lockup back in Vegas. We got 'em."

Morgan turned around in her seat. "So, how did you get hit in the head again?"

"Well, you saw the ransom video. Finn was handcuffed to the bar."

"I noticed the part connecting it to the wall was a little loose, so I tried to wiggle it out of the wall." Finn pulled a face as she moved her arm.

"When Sharlene was taken from the room, I started to help Finn pull on the bar. When it came loose…"

"You couldn't stop the momentum because you're paralyzed." Morgan nodded to show she understood. "The bar hit you in the face with enough force to split the skin."

"Exactly."

Russell looked at the two in the rear view mirror. "I know the two of you want to go home, but everyone at the lab wants to see you first."

Finn groaned and leaned back in her seat. "Fine. I'm gonna take a nap."

* * *

There was a round of applause when Sara and Finn entered the lab. Finn had put on the sling the doctor had given her and everyone was careful to avoid that arm when they gave her a hug. Sara was happy to see everyone because it meant the two of them really had made it and they were safe.

Greg wrapped his arms around Sara. "Glad you're okay. You guys had me worried."

"It wasn't our time yet." Sara returned the hug. "Thank you for working so hard to find us."

"We're a family. Family takes care of each other."

"I know. Thank you."

Greg smiled. "You're welcome."

* * *

**Meanwhile...**

Ecklie took Russell aside while the others were welcoming Sara and Finn home. "Now that we've got them back home, I wanted to talk to you about something. I got your resignation letter. You're sure you want to leave us for the FBI's Cyber Division?"

Russell nodded. "Barbara is back in Seattle and Finn is almost back to herself again. I don't need to stay here for them anymore. And besides, it'll be a great opportunity for me."

Ecklie sighed. "This lab will miss you."

"I know. But they'll be in good hands. I'm going to talk to Sara about applying for the director position."

"She'd make a good fit. You don't think Finn will?"

Russell looked toward the blonde and shook his head. "After everything she's been through with Winthrop, I don't think she's ready for that kind of responsibility. I won't stop her from applying if she wants to though."

"Well, there are a couple applicants that I'd like you to look at to fill Sara or Finn's place if I promote from within. I don't want the new lab director to worry about filling a hole as their first responsibility. They should be able to hit the ground running with a good team already in place."

Russell nodded. "I'll take a look."

"Good." Ecklie shook his hand. "Congrats on getting them back safely. I'll send you the applications tomorrow."

"Thank you, Conrad."

* * *

**A/N: And that is it for this case. The next one will be the series finale and I will be editing that one for the next week or two. Stay tuned!**


	66. Chapter 66

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank VegasGirl09 and phnxgrl for their reviews. VegasGirl09: Sorry, but Finn won't be in this one until the last chapter. I tried to figure out a way to integrate her into this case, but with the introduction of Lindsey and reappearance of three other characters, that wasn't very easy. Don't worry, she will make an appearance. This chapter begins the finale episode. For those of you asking for Grissom to make an appearance, here he is. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 66

Sara sat in the Trace Lab filling out the application. Russell had decided to accept the FBI's Cyber Division job offer in DC, which meant the position of Las Vegas Lab Director would soon be open. Nick had been excelling in this same position in San Diego and Sara had been considering making a similar move soon. If she got this job here, she wouldn't have to adjust her life too much. Her home, her friends, her workplace, these would all stay the same. The only thing changing would be her responsibilities.

She had just handed the application to Ecklie when the call about a bombing at the Eclipse Casino came in. _ That's Catherine's casino_. Sara gathered the team up and everyone grabbed their kits and piled into the SUVs. She even had Hodges and Henry come along. Well, not everyone came. Finn was out of town with her mother and Ibarra had been sick with the flu all week, so he wasn't available. But Sara was still confident that without them, this team could still figure out what had happened.

They walked into the casino with Sara rolling ahead of everyone. People were being treated by paramedics as they walked by. Some were injured, many were simply in shock. A brief flashback of the shooting at the Mediterranean passed in front of Sara's eyes. These people had been going about their days, gambling to their hearts' content, the only worry on their minds was how much money they might win or lose today. No one had expected to be fearing for their lives while they were out on the town.

They rounded the corner into an aisle of slot machines to see the site of the bombing. Russell was already here, a flashlight in hand to look for clues. Past the caution tape, a man was being patched up by a paramedic, but that isn't what drew everyone's eyes. It was the damage caused by the bomb. The carpet and ceiling were all scorched from the blast and stuff had been shredded. It was a scene from nightmares, and they had to process it.

Sara stopped. "Hey."

Russell turned around. "Oh, great. All right, all hands on deck on this one." He turned back to the scene and started giving them the rundown. "Blast circumference… roughly eighteen by twelve. We've got three dead and several dozen injured. So let's- let's get on it." Russell raised the tape and ducked under it to exit the crime scene.

Greg nodded. "All right, I'll look for bomb parts."

Morgan nodded too. "I'll shoot the overalls."

Hodges tapped Henry on the shoulder and walked forward. "Henry and I will document the detonation blast area."

Henry followed Hodges as everyone moved forward. "I'll measure, you photo."

Hodges nodded. "Yeah."

Russell stopped in front of Sara to talk to her. "So, uh, I know you're applying for the directorship."

Sara shook her head. She didn't want to have this conversation right now. "Oh…"

"Stage doesn't get any bigger than this, Sara. You want this case?" Sara nodded, realizing what Russell was asking her. "Good. It's yours." He stepped to the side and sighed, watching the team get to work. "I wish Finn's mom hadn't had her health scare. We could use all the people we can get."

"Don't forget Ibarra getting sick."

"Right." Russell turned to look at Sara. "I know this is going to sound insensitive, but don't you think a bomber wearing a vest would've taken out way more people than this?"

Sara nodded. "Yeah."

"So, what," Russell shook his head to show his perplexity, "faulty bomb?"

Sara shook her head. "You put a vest on like that in a public place, I gotta think that you're planning on taking as many people with you as possible."

Russell twirled the flashlight in his hands as he thought. "Yeah." He turned back to the scene. "So, what do you think? First blush."

Sara looked at the scene for a while. "Terrorism."

Russell sighed, a note of disappointment in his voice. "Why do you say that?"

"Vegas is terrified."

* * *

**Port of San Diego…**

The man was trespassing, and he knew it, but this was important. The owner of this boat was engaged in illegal activity and it was far more serious than a little trespassing. He kept working, digging through this boat's on deck cooler for the evidence he needed. _There it is_. Now he just had to get it out of this cooler of gutted fish before the men boarding the boat could stop him.

The men behind him had to be law enforcement. "Sir? Harbor Patrol. I'm Officer Scinta. These men are from San Diego PD. I have orders to remove all trespassers. Please show me your hands."

_That confirmed _it. The man straightened up, waved his bloody and gloved hands, and then returned to grabbing the evidence.

Officer Scinta wasn't amused. "I'm gonna give you about two seconds to turn around, or I'm gonna consider you a threat and shoot you right here on this boat."

Grissom sighed as he finally managed the extract the evidence and turned around. "Shark fins. Looks like somebody jumped a shark."

* * *

**Eclipse Casino…**

Out front of the casino was a triage center. Many of the injured had been brought out here to be assessed and then taken to the hospital if their injures were severe enough to require immediate attention. Special Agent Catherine Willows was driven to the scene with the FBI agents who had been assigned to the case. She got out and saw Jim Brass, who was now a shift supervisor for security at the Eclipse, coming toward them. Catherine had helped him get this job when he'd retired from the force. She was sorry she had to see him again under such horrible circumstances.

Brass started talking as soon as Catherine had closed her door. "Well, you got here fast."

"FBI has its perks." Catherine clipped her gun holster onto her belt. "How many dead?"

Brass might be retired now, but once a cop, always a cop. He launched right into the report as he fell in step with his old friend. "Three. A lot are injured. We don't have a count." He pointed to a woman on a gurney. "Anyway, she's one of ours. Her name is Romina Gonzalez. I saw the surveillance video. You want to talk to her now. She was the last person to speak to the bomber before he self-detonated. Romina, hang in there, honey."

Catherine walked next to the gurney as it was wheeled to the ambulances. "Mrs. Gonzalez, I'm Catherine Willows, Special Agent with the FBI." Romina groaned in pain and Catherine glanced at the woman's injuries. She'd lost both legs just above the knee.

"I wasn't even supposed to work today. I just needed the money."

"I just need to ask… could you recall your conversation you had with the bomber."

Romina described how she had been working as a cigarette and cigar vendor on the floor when the bomber had walked by her and asked about the photo she kept on her tray. How he'd commented that they were cute and then asked for Cubano cigars and checked that they were fifty bucks a stick. How he'd touched his head and concentrated on the voice coming through his earpiece before asking her to accompany him to the cage so he could cash in some chips to pay for the cigar.

"So, he was listening to someone on the other end of an earpiece?"

Romina nodded and then grabbed Catherine's hand in pain. In the background the firefighter moving Romina's gurney said, "All right, check the femoral."

The other responded, "Yeah."

Romina was is extreme pain and stared into Catherine's eyes with fear in her own while the firefighters worked on her. "Tourniquet still in place?"

"It is."

Romina was fading. "My daughter's names… are Helena and Maria." Her breathing weakened and her heart monitor beeped more frantically.

Catherine nodded. "All right."

"B.P.'s dropping." A flat line tone sounded and Romina's eyes went blank. "Doctor, we need some help over here."

"Romina?" Catherine didn't get a response and she tried again. "Ro…"

The firefighters pushed Catherine out of the way, "Ma'am, please step back. Start compressions." An oxygen mask was placed over Romina's face and one of the firefighters started CPR as Catherine moved out of the way and a doctor came over. "Call ahead to the hospital, prepare for arrival."

The doctor got to work. "Let's start a line."

Catherine turned and walked toward the Casino. No matter what the doctors did, Catherine had seen enough people die in her line of work that she knew Romina was gone. She had lost too much blood from two severed femoral arteries and if she'd been as close to the blast as Jim had said, she probably had suffered devastating internal injuries as well. The two little girl's names rang in her head as she walked inside. _Helena and Maria, Helena and Maria_…

When Catherine got inside, her old team was busy working the crime scene. Sara, Morgan and Hodges had their cameras out, Henry was placing red flags and markers on the ground, and Greg was going through the room looking for pieces of the bomb and marking them with yellow markers. From time to time Henry would use a tape measure so Hodges could take reference photos. Sara leaned over and photographed a piece of a leg that had been blasted off of someone. Greg picked up what looked like an earpiece and looked at it, wondering where this had come from.

Catherine walked up to a uniform and flashed her badge. "FBI, Special Agent Willows. I've been authorized by the L.A. Bureau to take over this bomb site." The uniform at the entry point waved her through. Sara had heard Catherine's voice and ducked under the tape to greet her. "Sara!"

"Catherine, hey," Sara reached out her arms and Catherine bent over to give the brunette a hug. "I am so sorry. What a mess."

Catherine straightened up, staring at the blast site. "Just got in from L.A. I saw the footage on the news. How can I help?"

Sara paused, unsure how to proceed. "Well, I'm not exactly sure. It's a conflict of interest."

"Legally, I'm the owner of the Eclipse. This building and everything in it is my responsibility."

Sara nodded. "Of course, yes. Yes, it is. But… you and I both know you can't be in here."

Catherine looked down at Sara in disbelief. "Three of my employees are dead. What am I supposed to do? Wait in the hospitality suite?" Catherine could feel the eyes of the people she knew on the pair and she reined in her temper. "Look, Sara… I'm not here to cause trouble, but I'm also not here to sit on the sidelines. And as long as there are bodies on the floor of my father's casino, I need to continue to work this case. Okay?"

Sara nodded. "Okay."

Catherine took a deep breath. "You look great by the way. Is the wheelchair still working for you?"

Sara nodded. "Yeah. Thank you again for getting this for me. I wouldn't still be a CSI if I didn't have it."

"You're welcome. Okay, let's get to work. How can I help?"

* * *

**Port of San Diego…**

Officer Scinta returned to where Grissom was sitting. "I ran your name. Says you used to run the Las Vegas Crime Lab."

"Long time ago."

"Do you mind telling me why you're unlawfully on this vessel?" Scinta was shaking his head, trying to understand how a former law enforcement brother could be breaking the law now.

"Well, see," Grissom pointed with handcuffed hands, "that's my boat over there. The poacher who owns this boat has violated Fish and Game Code 8599, which states: 'It is unlawful to slice the dorsal fin off a Carcharodon Carcharias unless you bring the whole carcass ashore.' But white sharks can only be taken for scientific or educational purposes under permit." He pointed to the boat he was on. "This boat has no permit. My job is to confiscate the evidence, document it and prepare it for International and/or Domestic Court."

Scinta nodded in amusement. "I had to ask. So, now you're what, a CSI at sea?"

Grissom nodded and shrugged. "Kind of. Shark fin soup is bad. It's worth getting arrested for."

* * *

**Meanwhile...**

Sara had asked Catherine to keep her distance from the scene itself and suggested she take a look at the surveillance tapes to see if she could see something Brass might have missed on his hasty viewing earlier. She was taken to the Observation Booth where the hundreds of cameras in the casino could be viewed on the two dozen or so monitors. Brass had accompanied her and they were currently watching the tapes in real time.

Catherine was pissed as she watched the bomber follow Romina to the cages. "Bastard lied about needing to get money from the cage. He lured Romina over after he found out she had children."

Brass nodded. "Pretty cruel." On the screen, the bomber blew up and the camera feed they were watching whited out as the camera was destroyed. "Whew."

Catherine had closed her eyes as the blast went off and it took her a moment to regain her composure. "I'm good here. Just release everything back to Sara. As far as this piece of work- just grab his photo and run it through NCIC, BICTOF, local DMV- I want a name." Catherine was not happy about what this man had done. Brass nodded and looked back at the video.

* * *

The bomber's wife was brought into PD for questioning and Sara rolled into the room to run the interrogation. Things were tense from the outset and as soon as Sara mentioned that they were looking at a terrorist angle, she became offended. "Would you have assumed this if I was a nun or a Hasidic Jew? They also cover themselves based on religious belief."

"Considering what your husband did, Mrs. Karmini, I would. Hijab or no hijab, terrorism is not a stretch if you're on my side of the law."

Mrs. Kamimi shook her head. "My husband converted to Islam because we fell in love, Mrs. Sidle. I came to America so that I could live free as a woman. Here, women have a chance to live and to love without being stoned to death." She looked at Sara for a moment and the CSI had to admit that she felt something for this woman. "To you, he's a criminal. But to me, he was a husband. He was my salvation."

Sara looked away, convinced that the wife knew nothing of her husband's actions. "Sorry. Um, I- I didn't mean to offend you. I'm sorry for your loss."

"That does not forgive what he did to those people. I know."

"Mrs. Karmimi, help me. If not terrorism… then why would your husband strap a bomb to his body and do that?"

The wife shook her head. "I don't know. My husband is not a terrorist. If anything, he had a gambling problem." _There was something_. "I took him to our Imam to speak to him at the mosque. I even took him to therapy."

Sara's mind was theorizing a different motive for the bombing now. "Therapy for his addiction?"

Mrs. Karmimi nodded. "Yes. He was doing well for a while. But then, the therapist of his, she unexpectedly quit her practice. And then he just spiraled."

* * *

**A/N: Stay tuned!**


	67. Chapter 67

**Author's Note: Sorry I didn't post this yesterday; life got in the way. I'd like to thank phnxgrl, VegasGirl09, and YouKilledMyFrittata. YouKilledMyFrittata: I won't be bringing Nick back for this one, but I am planning on bringing him back for another case down the road. Sorry about that. This chapter starts where the episode picked back up. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 67

Morgan was analyzing the footage in slow motion. The first few times were hard to watch, but she had eventually become desensitized to the image of a man blowing himself up and started to focus more closely on the blast itself. Every time she watched, something flew out of the bomb vest as the bomb detonated. She isolated the blur and tried to enhance it, but it didn't get any clearer.

She was baffled. "What the hell is that?" In the layout room, Greg and Hodges were documenting each item that might have been from the bomb vest. Morgan walked in as she asked the question. "Hey, you garbage men find anything gold and square, about yea big?" She held up her fingers a couple inches apart to demonstrate what she was looking for. They weren't getting it, so she tried again. "Something gold and metal flew out of the bomber's vest."

Hodges remembered something. "Chest-high, right side?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Uh…" Hodges grabbed the vest to show her. "I noticed this hand-stitched lining on the inside of the bomber's vest, almost like a homemade pocket."

Morgan was thrilled that there was evidence she wasn't seeing a camera glitch. "Oh."

Greg had walked away while they were examining the vest and dug through the other bin of evidence. "Gold metal piece." He held it up and returned to the table. "I found it earlier, but I wasn't sure what it was."

Morgan grabbed it from Greg's hand with a smile. "This flew out of the bomber's right breast pocket, but this vest doesn't even have inside pockets. Looks like this gold God-knows-what was purposely sewn into the vest."

Greg took the piece back. "Good catch. Now, there's some kind of etching on it." He used a magnifying glass to get a better look. "Maybe I can lift it."

He took the piece of metal into the evidence room to process it. First, Greg sanded down the inscribed side of the metal to get rid of the damage the bombing might have caused and to provide a clean surface to work with. He then used an acid solution to erase all of the rough edges and bring the etching to the surface. Three letters appeared on the metal: LHK. It looked like a logo, so Greg ran a search to find one that matched. It appeared an old friend's "friend" was involved.

* * *

Russell looked at the metal Greg and Morgan had brought him. "Forgive me, but who- who is Lady Heather?"

Morgan didn't know her either, so Greg had to explain. "Uh, she's a sex therapist Grissom had a thing with back in the day-day. Not, like, a sexual one, more like…" how could he explain this… "an intellectual one. Anyway, he worked a couple cases with her. And… against her."

"So what do we think? That she could be involved in this somehow?"

Morgan shrugged. "We don't know, but we'd like to find out why this piece of metal with Lady Heather's initials on it flew from the bomber's jacket."

* * *

Ecklie had to catch up to Sara as she rolled out to her new car. "Sara. Wait." Sara stopped and turned her chair around to face the Sheriff. "This is gonna sound like an odd request, but do you know where Grissom is?"

Sara looked surprised. "Grissom?"

"Yeah."

Sara sat back in her chair and her voice took on an amused quality. "Uh, let me see, grab a globe, spin it, look for the blue, and pick an ocean. He could be anywhere. Why?"

Ecklie sighed. "We think Lady Heather might have something to do with the bombing."

Sara's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Lady Heather?" Now she was confused. "Well, even if she did, what does that have to do with my ex-husband?"

Ecklie was a little irritated with Sara's avoidance. "Lady Heather is in the wind, all right? We're getting a warrant for her house, as we speak." Sara shook her head; she didn't understand why Grissom would suddenly be involved in all this. "Come on, if anybody knows this woman inside and out, it's Grissom; I figured he could provide some deeper insight."

It was Sara's turn to be irritated. "Conrad, with all due respect, this entire building is working the bombing case. Greg and I have history with Lady Heather. We- we got it covered."

"I know, Sara, but this bombing is international news now. I'd feel better if we exhaust all resources." Ecklie started turning to leave. "Do you at least have his cell?"

Sara scoffed and shook her head while grabbing her phone. "This is not how I wanted him to find out about this." She gestured at herself.

Ecklie was surprised now. "You haven't told him you're paralyzed yet?"

Sara looked down. "No. We're divorced and barely speaking. I didn't feel it was necessary because I know how he'd react and I didn't want that." She gave Ecklie Grissom's number. "When you call, don't mention me."

"You got it."

* * *

**Port of San Diego…**

Grissom had been moved from the boat to lean on the back of a squad car. The two poachers were located in their sleeping quarters and arrested for poaching as soon as Officer Scinta could clear up what to do with them. Grissom was now waiting for the police to figure out what to do with him. He had been trespassing on that boat, but by doing so, two poachers were now in custody. He wasn't sure if helping catch those guys would negate a trespassing charge or not. Officer Scinta, meanwhile, was wrapping up the processing of the poacher's boat when the cell phone taken off of Mr. Grissom started to ring. He picked it up and looked at the caller ID: LV Crime Lab.

_You have got to be kidding me_. Scinta took the phone out of the evidence bag and answered it. "Mr. Grissom's phone, Officer Scinta speaking. Who am I talking to?"

"_This is Sheriff Ecklie of Clark County. Where's Grissom?_"

"He's currently in my custody for trespassing."

"_Put him on the phone._"

"Hold on." Scinta walked over to Grissom. "It's for you." He held the phone to Grissom's ear.

"Hello?"

"_Grissom, its Ecklie._" Ecklie explained to Grissom what was going on and why he had called.

Grissom listened patiently. "Well, if that's the case, Conrad, then I need to come up there. But you're gonna have to get me out of this first."

Scinta took the phone back. "Hello."

"_I'm going to need you to let Grissom go._"

Scinta was shocked. "Let him go? Are you sure about this, Sheriff?"

"_Yes, I'm sure. He's a consultant that we need to solve the bombing case._"

Scinta shrugged. "Okay. I'll, uh, arrange transport and relinquish him into your custody." He hung up the phone and looked at Grissom. "It's your lucky day, pal. I'd tell you not to leave town, but I guess you're going to Sin City."

Grissom shook his head. "Vegas."

* * *

Grissom walked into the lab with a duffle bag of his things in hand. He slowed to a stop just beyond the front desk. Things hadn't changed much since he left. The labs looked the same, the smells were familiar and the people marching down the hallway to do their various tasks hadn't changed their urgency or sense of purpose at all. But the people had changed and they had noticed an unfamiliar face watching them. Several turned to looking at him, but no one recognized him. He had been gone for five years and the lab rats had forgotten him or moved on themselves.

A young redhead walked past him and then stopped and called out his name. "Mr. Grissom?" He turned around and she seemed to recognize him. "Oh, my God. Hi. Welcome back. It's been a long time since I saw you last. Oh, but, hey, check it out." She pulled back her jacket to display her lab credential. "CSI Level One. I did it."

She laughed and kept talking, oblivious to the fact that he had no clue who she was. "You know what the crazy thing is?" She cupped a hand by her mouth and whispered, "It's my first day." She had a teasing glint in her eye. "Do you want to take my blood or offer me a chocolate-covered grasshopper?" The redhead looked down at the folder in her hands. "Oh, but, uh, anyway, I gotta run. It was great to see you, as always." She turned to walk away. "See ya."

Grissom stood staring after her for a few moments. _What a strange girl_. She clearly knew him and knew his old traditions for rookies on their first day, but he could not figure out how. This was her first day, after all. She couldn't have been working here when he was the lab director. This was all very confusing.

He turned around to see Sara sitting in a wheelchair behind him. She had called him not long after Ecklie had and told him what had happened to her, but she was still looking at him with a very uncomfortable expression, which told him she had wanted to avoid the impending conversation for as long as possible.

Grissom just couldn't believe her was seeing her for the first time in years. "Sara."

"Gil." She tried to smile, but it was tense and didn't last for long.

Grissom looked away and tried to lighten the tension. "I'm back." He laughed. It did seem strange to be back here again.

"I see that." Sara nodded, but didn't laugh.

Ecklie walked down the hall toward them. "Grissom. Hey." He extended his hand. "Thanks for coming." He sensed the tension and decided to change the subject and venue. "Uh, let's step into D.B.'s office. Sara."

Grissom looked at Sara, very confused, and whispered, "Who's D.B.?" He shook his head and followed Ecklie.

Ecklie was the first through the door. "D.B., Grissom."

Russell quickly stood up and came around his desk. "Hi. I'm- I'm Diebenkorn Russell. Pleasure to finally meet you, Gil."

Grissom was looking at the shelves behind Russell. "My brains used to sit on that shelf."

Russell glanced at the shelves and then back to Grissom. "Yeah, I, uh, traded brains for mushrooms. Hope you don't mind." Russell turned to his desk.

"Gil, we could really use some insight on Lady Heather." Ecklie took the evidence bag from Russell. "The most pressing issue is this. At the blast site, we found a piece of gold metal with the letters LHK inscribed on it." He handed the bag to Grissom. "It flew out of the bomber's suicide vest."

Grissom looked at the metal. "Well, that's her logo, but I don't know what this is."

Ecklie took the bag back. "When was the last time you spoke with her?"

"A few days ago, by phone." Grissom said this as if he spoke to her all the time.

Sara was looking away from Grissom. "Guess your cell service is better than it used to be." She turned to look up at him and noticed, with a little satisfaction, that her comment had made him a little uncomfortable.

Catherine walked in. "Who wants to catch me up?" She noticed the familiar face in the room. "Gil!"

"Hey."

Catherine had her arms out and gave her former boss a big hug. "I heard you were coming by."

Russell wanted to get back to the case. "Catherine… because your name is in the deed to the Eclipse, it might be cleaner if you work other avenues for us, okay?"

Catherine nodded. "Sure. I'll work up a chronological timeline and psychological profile on Lady Heather."

Grissom shrugged. "Good luck with that."

Sara looked at Grissom again until Ecklie drew her attention. "Sara, your warrant came in. Lady Heather's house is all yours."

Sara rolled forward and took the warrant. "Perfect. Grissom and I'll check it out." All eyes were drawn to her, but she just looked back calmly. _This was going to be interesting_.

* * *

Sara drove them to Lady Heather's house in her new car. Ecklie had gotten in touch with GMC and Mobility SVM and asked them work together on figuring out how to convert the GMC Arcadia to be a wheelchair accessible vehicle. They already had a conversion for the Yukon, but it had still taken a few months for the company to figure out how, and if, manufacturing the Arcadia this way would be good for their businesses. In the end they had figured out how to make it work. Now Sara didn't have to rely on everyone driving her everywhere.

She parked the car and hit the button to let her out of the car. The conversion had the front and back doors on the driver's side of the vehicle attached to a hydraulically operated lift system. This meant that the doors didn't open the way most doors did. They were both one piece and were pushed away from the car to let the platform her chair attached to completely exit the vehicle and then lower her to the ground. She had been afraid that the whole system would be slow like all the similar conversions she'd seen on trucks, but this machine was actually able to let her get out of the car and put the door back in place in just over a minute.

Sara rolled around the front of the car with her portable ramp across her lap. "Wow, thirty minutes in the car, no words. If you were playing that silent car game, you definitely win." She unfolded the ramp and placed it over Lady Heather's steps.

Grissom was already up the stairs. "I thought we were talking."

Sara reached the top of the steps and took off her sunglasses. "All right, uh, listen, you know, before we go in there and deal with Lady Heather, I- I just want to acknowledge," she took a deep breath, "that you and I haven't spoken much since the divorce, or before it, for that matter. We both went our separate ways. You're doing your Jacques Cousteau thing, I'm in the field; I didn't tell you about getting shot and paralyzed. Things end, things change, I- I- I- I get it. But- but- but you and I are professionals, and as professionals, I think it's in the best interests… of the case if we put on a unified front. You know, work as a team. So, uh, let's put on our game faces and- and keep it professional." Sara smiled and gestured at her face. "See? Mine's on. You ready to go in?"

Grissom was quiet for a while. "Seeing you again left me a little speechless."

Sara's smile had faded. She shook her head and moved to roll past him. "Come on." She led their way to the door. Grissom followed closely behind and Sara glanced back at him to get him to give her just a little space. She turned to look at the door and noticed that is was ajar. Sara glanced at Grissom again and pulled out her gun. "Dr. Kessler? Las Vegas Crime Lab."

She pushed open the door and maneuvered across the threshold. She was still getting used to trying to roll and hold her gun at the ready now that she had finally managed to requalify, but she was starting to get the hang of it. Just across the threshold, Sara stopped to surveil the room. Chairs in front of the fireplace had been knocked over or out of place, but the blood on the mantle is what drew Sara's eye most. _ That was a lot of spatter._

* * *

**A/N: As far as I know, the conversion I described for Sara's vehicle is only available on trucks. It is really cool though; would be nice if the car companies would figure out how to convert SUVs that way too so the options weren't limited to minivans or post purchase.**


	68. Chapter 68

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank phnxgrl and was spratlurid quimby for their reviews. phnxgrl: When I was researching wheelchair accessible/drive-able vehicles, I couldn't find anything about SUV conversions that were similar to trucks. It looks like the lift accessible options you pointed out have only come out in the last few months. So far it is just on the Chevrolet Suburban and GMC Yukon, but thanks for the info!I've modified the last chapter to reflect this information.**

**This chapter starts where the last one left off. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 68

Catherine stood in the layout room and picked up a picture of Lady Heather. "From 2000 to 2006, Lady Heather ran a role-playing Red Room out of her home." She walked around the layout table and pinned Heather's picture to the board. "Whips, chains, pig masks, the whole ball of sex wax."

Greg was helping Catherine build the profile. "In 2006, she shut down the Red Room after her daughter Zoe was murdered. Overnight, her Red Room clients became therapy patients where she started her own psychiatry practice. And three months ago, she abruptly shut down her practice. Why?"

Catherine turned back to the table. "Well, here's a thought: this year, Lady Heather's granddaughter Alison, daughter of Zoe, was hit by a car while walking to school." She pinned a picture of Alison to the board too. "She died three months ago, right around the time she quit her practice."

"You think the two incidents are related?"

Catherine shrugged. "I don't know yet." She sighed. "Lady Heather told me something a long time ago, that I never forgot. She told me that there are many things that you can give a man – your body, your time, even your heart – but that one thing that you could never, ever, **ever** let go of is your power. I think that she lost everything that mattered to her – her daughter and her granddaughter? I mean, it's painful enough to lose one child, but two? I mean, what else does she have to live for but to wield her power of revenge?"

"Not to mention, we're dealing with a master of the human mind."

Catherine nodded "Yeah. If anybody can convince someone to blow themselves up, it's her."

* * *

Henry handed Sara a piece of paper while shaking his head. "Sorry. I wish I had better news. Especially given all the blood you found at Lady Heather's house."

Sara looked over at Grissom, who'd been eyeing her wheelchair now that she was using it to stand. "None of these blood samples belong to Lady Heather. Not one. Amelogenin is XY. Donor's male. DNA from the carpet doesn't even match the bomber."

Grissom nodded. "So there's another male out there."

"Along with Lady Heather."

Catherine walked in with some evidence, dispelling the building tension. "Robbins found the other half of the gold metal piece inside one of the female victims. Looks like a key of some sort."

As soon as Catherine set the evidence bag down, Grissom felt like he recognized it. He grabbed the two pieces and arranged them the way they should be. _I do recognize this_. "Not just any key. This is a key to Heather's Red Room."

"Where's that?"

Grissom looked at Sara. "The dungeon."

Sara, Catherine, and Grissom returned to Lady Heather's home and then Grissom took the lead, bringing them to the pool house where they'd found a male victim who'd been murdered during a dance party years ago. The inside of this room was creepy now; cobwebs hung from everything and a lot of the props that had been used in the house had been dumped in here, as though the space was being used for storage.

Catherine entered the room behind Grissom, with Sara bringing up the rear. She dropped down the step and pulled out her flashlight to get a look at the room. Chains, candelabras, a dentist's chair, and other items Sara didn't want to know about were scattered through the room. Grissom led them to the left of the empty pool. A red light was on toward the end of the row and they crept toward it silently. Grissom paused for a moment outside the door and then he gently pushed it in.

The table inside was set up like a bomb maker's paradise. Wires, diagrams, bins of shrapnel, and bricks of C4 were just some of the items set out. Catherine and Sara went in to take a look while Grissom hovered near the door. There were five bricks of C4 in here, neatly laid out in the center of the chaos surrounding it. Detonators with cords were scattered on and around the bricks. It looked like Heather knew what she was doing.

Grissom sighed. "Oh, Heather, what have you done now?"

* * *

Grissom stood at the Evidence Room's table to ponder the bomb evidence from the hotel crime scene. This was the CSI work he missed most: being able to enter the mind of the killer and figure out how they had built the bomb. In his mind's eye, the bomb components reassembled themselves. The wires rejoined the various relays and triggers, the fabric was melding together. Until Henry walked in, that is.

He stopped in the doorway. "Am I interrupting anything?"

Grissom took a moment before responding. "Only my precious thoughts, Henry." He turned to look at one of the only lab rats who still remembered him. "Did you bring the movie?"

Henry smiled. "Thumb drive."

They put the drive into the computer and pulled up the video. Grissom watched the moment of the explosion a few times and then returned to the table to look at the evidence again. The C4 wrapper collected from Lady Heather's Red Room drew his eye and he picked it up. There looked to be a mark on the wrapper, so Grissom unfolded it and realized it was from someone slicing a chunk of the plastic explosive from the brick.

The implications were not good. "What are you, Henry, about five-ten, 160 pounds?"

"164… why?"

Grissom answered with dead seriousness. "I'm gonna make a bomb. We're going to blow you up."

Henry's eyes were wide, but not surprised; just a little afraid. "Oh. Okay. Great."

* * *

Henry was watching Grissom work. "So, uh, where did you learn how to build homemade bombs? And, um, does the bomb you're currently working on have, uh, any chance of blowing us up?"

Grissom kept working. "If our organization fails to put poachers in jail for pillaging our oceans, we've been known to blow holes in their boats."

"You can do that?"

"Not legally." Henry nodded as Grissom put the finishing touches on the vest. "There." Grissom stood. "Put the vest on."

Henry gingerly grabbed the vest and put it on the dummy as Sara rolled up to the site. "I see I'm right on time."

Grissom pushed a few buttons on the detonation device. "Okay, bomb's hot. Behind the wall."

Everyone headed behind the, hopefully, blast proof wall. Sara and Henry put on earphones to protect their hearing. There was a window in the wall so they could watch the explosion. Sara was too short to see while sitting and too tall while standing, so she raised the handles enough so she could see and then had to hold it in place. Grissom leaned over with his foot on the bench so he could see and positioned his hand over the detonator.

"Three, two, one…" Grissom hit the button and the dummy wearing the vest blew up in a cloud of red, white and debris. The CSI's removed their headphones and everyone emerged from behind the wall. Grissom grabbed the crime scene photos. "Look at the blast circumference. Now, look at the blast pattern from the casino."

"Yeah, they're identical. Hmm."

They watched Henry take photos of the reconstruction for a moment and then Grissom headed back under the cover of the popup tent. "Now look at this." He picked up the clipboard, which had a picture of the C4 brick wrapper on it. "See the outline on the brick of the C4 wrapper? The rectangle? There's enough explosive here to level the entire casino floor."

Sara nodded and pointed to the picture. "Well, based on the tool marks in the stick of putty, the bomber only used a quarter of the explosive. Explains why there weren't more casualties."

Grissom shook his head. "What's bothering me is all the C4 we can't account for." They both looked up at the scene Henry was documenting. There was a lot more C4 out there.

* * *

**Meanwhile...**

The school play was somewhere in the middle and the song turned to singing about caterpillars. The kids were all dressed up in some sort of costume and face paint that represented their part in the play. Group by group, they had sung a song about their character, plant, animal, or human. Parents had their phones and tablets out to record their child's minuscule contribution to the arts. Cameras flashed to capture individual moments of the play.

A woman in the middle of the audience touched her Bluetooth earpiece and stood up. "Closer to the kids. Sure." As the song naturally transformed into the part about butterflies, she edged down the row and out into the aisle. She slowly approached the stage, ignoring the murmurs and whispers from the audience. She walked in front of the stage and then a couple steps up the stairs. She then opened the front of her cardigan and grabbed the handle. "Should I pull it now? I'm gonna pull it now."

Behind her, a man called out. "Hey, down in front! Hey, lady."

She ignored them all. "Pull it now?"

The same man stood up. "Hey, you're blocking the view." He grabbed her shoulder and turned her around. "My God, she's got a bomb! Oh, my God! Go!"

Pandemonium. Everyone was screaming as parents rushed to get out of their seats, some heading straight for the exits and others for their kids. In the chaos, the woman just stood there, eyes opening and shutting, breathing heavily with sweat glistening on her face. Everyone was able to exit the auditorium and after some time, a bomb squad officer walked into the room wearing a protective suit. He glanced around the room looking for booby-traps, but everything looked clear and he approached the woman.

Officer Anthony Hurst tried to get her attention while he was some distance away. "Ma'am? I'm here from the Las Vegas Bomb Disposal Unit. Is it okay if I approach?" He was met with no response. "Are you doing okay?" He was close to her now and he smiled reassuringly. "You're doing great. I just want to check you out. Can you tell me your name?"

She slowly turned to look at him, eerily threading the line between calm and creepy or scared. Sara and Catherine were outside in the van, listening to Officer Hurst's attempts to engage the victim bomber in conversation. They could also see her over the live feed from the helmet cam he was wearing. Sara looked at Catherine. The strawberry blonde was tense, sitting with her back rigidly straight and staring intently at the screen.

Officer Hurst tried again. "Ma'am, I… I'm gonna have to get a little closer to take a peek." He slowly reached forward with his hands and gently removed the cardigan to get a closer look at the bomb. With how little she had responded so far, he expected her to resist, but she just kept looking straight head. With the wrap out of the way, he could see that this bomb vest had six bricks of C4 and cases filled with shrapnel strapped to it.

Hurst was terrified. If this bomb went off, his suit wouldn't do a thing to protect him. "I'm gonna get you out of here in no time."

The woman finally spoke. "Correction. I'll get us out of here in no time."

Hurst rushed to stop her train of thought. "Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no. You don't want to do that, ma'am. You're already a hero today, ma'am. All the children got out alive."

"Why would you make me say that?"

In the van, Catherine realized what was going on. "Someone's feeding her commands, just like the male bomber. Can you get audio on the voice, male or female?"

Sara picked up the walkie. "Anthony… can you establish gender of the voice in her ear?"

"No, negative. The voice is too soft. I got four colored wires here. I'm gonna have to cut them in order." He opened a pocket on his suit, pulled out some tools, and got to work on the wires.

The woman started to speak again. "Okay… I will. I'll tell him. Sir? Sir?"

Hurst was hurrying to finish before she could pull the cord. "I'm almost there."

"Stop!" Her hand grabbed the handle. "Time's up."

"I just got one more."

"I'm here for Lady Heather." She pulled the cord.

The explosion knocked the camera feed out and rocked the area around the building for at least a block, setting off a lot of car alarms. SWAT rushed forward to clear the building and Sara threw the walkie down in frustration. One wire. He had been one wire from disarming the bomb, but the victim had stopped him and ended both of their lives.

Catherine's face was in her hands, then she brushed her hair out of her face and placed one on Sara's shoulder. "Oh, my God."

* * *

**A/N: Stay tuned!**


	69. Chapter 69

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank phnxgrl, VegasGirl09 and was spratlurid quimby for their reviews. This chapter starts where the last one left off. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 69

When Sara was finally given the all clear to enter the crime scene, the first impression she had while rolling across the threshold was a disaster zone. The set had been wrecked, the front rows of seats were broken and relocated or just gone, and all the permanent seats had bits of debris embedded in them. The blood was hard to look at. What was left of the bodies had already been removed, so the blood was all that remained of the victim and Officer Hurst.

Sara rolled down the aisle. "It doesn't make sense. Why wouldn't the bomber take out every man, woman, and child when she could?"

Grissom was following Sara with the flashlight. "I think whoever was on the other end of that earpiece was in the process of trying to exercise control. I think… he was sending us a message."

"'He'? You don't even think there's a possibility that Lady Heather was on the other end of that earpiece."

"I don't."

Sara shook her head. "Gil, she a puppeteer. She's been controlling people for a living for years."

Grissom was walking around the crime scene. "So, according to your theory, Lady Heather is the dominant in this scenario, giving orders. And the female bomber is the submissive, taking orders, right?"

"Right."

Grissom had come to a stop across the blast site from Sara. "By rule, the dominant is not allowed to hurt the submissive. And if, for some reason, they do, the submissive is allowed to use the safe word and discontinue the pain."

Sara sighed. "This is not some fetish game."

Grissom interrupted. "Sara, Heather would never hurt anyone with the intent to kill, especially innocent people and children. It goes against everything she stands for therapeutically."

Sara nodded. She believed that Grissom believed that about Heather. "What was your safe word with her?"

"Stop."

Sara's eyes were hard. "We certainly could've used that word today."

* * *

**Meanwhile...**

Two little girls had been brought into PD and were sitting with a Child Services representative while they waited to find out why they were here. Because their mother had worked at her casino, Catherine had volunteered to talk to them and she was looking at them through the glass of the waiting room now. She sighed. Telling children that one of their parents had died was never easy. She had always hated this part of her job when she had worked here. It wasn't any easier now that she was with the FBI.

She walked toward them and displayed her FBI badge so the Child Services rep would know why she was there. The representative nodded and walked away a few steps to let her have a little space. Catherine took another breath and readied herself for the conversation ahead. To be more calming, she plastered a soft smile on her face as she took a seat.

"Hello, girls. My name is Catherine Willows. I'm a Special Agent with the FBI. You're probably wondering why you're here." The girls nodded and Catherine sighed. "At school today, did you hear about anything happening in the news?"

The older girl carefully looked at her sister, trying to protect her. "Some kid said a bomb went off?"

"That's right." Catherine nodded. "There was an explosion at the Eclipse hotel."

When Catherine said the name of the hotel, Maria became very concerned. "Mom works there."

Catherine sighed. "I know, sweetheart, that's why I'm here."

Helena had been very quiet. "Is she okay?"

Catherine sighed and shook her head. "I'm sorry, honey… your mother passed away earlier today." Both girls started to sob and Catherine sighed again. "But listen…" she grabbed their hands, "I want you to know that… I was with your mom before she died, and she held my hand like I'm holding yours right now… and she told me how proud she was of her daughters Maria and Helena."

Maria looked at Catherine again. "What's gonna happen now?" She turned to her sister. "Who's gonna look after us?"

Catherine hadn't been able to find much about these girls' lives, but she had assumed that there was some family for them. "What about your father?

Maria gasped and sobbed. "Mom was all we had. We don't have anyone else."

Catherine sighed. She had hoped that these girls would at least have someone to turn to, but with their mother's body on its way to the morgue, their whole world had just been shattered. _Who was going to look after them now?_

* * *

**Meanwhile…**

Sara rolled into a classroom, finally finding Grissom after they'd parted in the auditorium. "I talked to the principal. The woman who blew herself up was a teacher here."

Grissom closed a drawer of the desk. "This is her classroom."

"According to him, she'd been put on administrative leave, twice, for mental instability. The school district paid for a therapist. You'll never guess the name." Grissom looked up at Sara and she continued. "Dr. Kessler."

Grissom looked at Sara for a moment and then let go of the paper he'd been examining and looked away. He didn't want to believe that the woman he felt he knew so well might actually be responsible for these events. She wouldn't hurt anyone. The man who had killed her daughter had been the one time where she hadn't restrained herself until he had told her to stop. At first she had resisted, but when she heard their safe word the second time, she had stopped. _Had Heather really been pushed to the point where she would forget herself and do this?_

"What kind of a person straps a bomb to her chest and self-detonates it at a school?"

Grissom was still a little in his own thoughts, but then he noticed the flowers and picked them up. "Perhaps someone under the influence of Devil's Breath."

* * *

Back in the lab, Grissom explained to the others what Devil's Breath was. "Burundanga. The most dangerous drug in the world. It's a flower that grows rampant in South America. One whiff of its airborne pollen, and the recipient relinquishes all control. They'll do anything on command, from emptying their bank accounts for strangers to putting on a suicide vest." He hit a key on the computer and the picture of the flower moved over to let the evidence picture have some space. "I found these on the teacher's desk. My theory is that whoever's behind the bombings gave her these flowers right before she went into that school play. Neurologically, the drug is so potent, it literally turned off the judgment receptors in her brain, 'causing her to kill without processing the consequences."

Sara turned to look at Greg. "So, did the first bomber, the male from the casino, have Devil's Breath in his system?"

"According to Tox, no."

Brass jumped in. "Well, I don't think the male bomber needed any extra flower power. He was already pissed off at the casino for losing all his money."

Greg looked around the room. "So, what are the connections between the two bombers?"

Sara quickly jumped in. "Both were patients of Lady Heather."

Catherine could see the tension between Grissom and Sara when Heather's name came up. "Is she the co-conspirator in all this, or the mastermind?"

Grissom didn't look up. "I think she's being framed."

Everyone's eyes turned to Grissom and Sara took the time to explain what was going on. "Uh, Grissom has this theory that Lady Heather's being framed, even though he doesn't have a motive and making every argument to validate her innocence, when everything that he's ever taught us about the sanctity of evidence… points to her."

Grissom shrugged. "Everything you say is true. But we still don't have proof. So, what if it's not her? Who else could it be? Who might have access to things they shouldn't have access to?"

Sara's eyebrows contracted and then relaxed as she understood what that meant. Looks like she was going back to Heather's house.

* * *

Grissom had said that someone might have access to information from Lady Heather's practice that they shouldn't have, so Sara was now going around the house with a bug detector. So far, all the common areas of the house had been clear. Now she was in the area Heather had used for her practice. Sara rolled around the room, checking all the places one might hide a bug. When she got to the desk, the bug detector finally started beeping. Sara stopped rolling and moved the detector around the desk until the intermittent beeps became a shrill whine.

Sara turned off the detector and saw the microphone attached to the desk. Now that she'd found the bug, she felt around for the wire. Sure enough, there was one tacked to the crease under the desk. She followed the wire around till it snaked into the desk. Sara rolled to the front of the desk and opened the top drawer. Inside, she found a box and a voice recorder. _This isn't a bug; it's the microphone for Heather's sessions_. Sara took the box out of the desk and set it on Heather's office chair to look inside. Cassette tapes labeled by the month and year were nestled inside.

"Three months of cassettes missing." She took off her gloves and grabbed her walkie. "Hey, Jim."

"_Go ahead, Sara. What's up?_"

While Brass was talking, there was a distinct clinking sound inside the house. "Hello?" Sara listened to the house for a moment and then raised her walkie again. "Jim, are you still outside?"

"_I'm here._"

"There's someone in the house." Sara set the walkie on her lap and pulled her gun before rounding the desk to listen some more. A woman matching Heather's description walked across the next room, heading for the door. "Dr. Kessler?" Sara set her gun in her lap too so she could race to the front door.

Heather reached the door before Sara did and was already down the steps by the time she exited the house. "Dr. Kessler!" Sara stopped at the top of the porch steps. "Stop right there!"

Brass had come around Sara's SUV. "Heather!"

"Stop! Don't move!"

"Heather!"

Sara was pointing her gun at Heather's vehicle, but Heather didn't stop. She started the car and revved the engine. Seconds later, the car was engulfed in flames from an explosion. Brass had been in the process of approaching the car and his jacket caught on fire. Sara raced down the ramp and grabbed the fire extinguisher from the back of her car to put out the flames on Brass. He was struggling to take his jacket off, so Sara just started spraying him with the CO2. Thanks to her quick thinking, the fire was out very quickly.

Sara leaned down to look at Brass. "You okay?"

Brass stood up. "Nah, yeah, I'm okay. I'm all right."

He started to stumble backward and Sara grabbed the front of his jacket and his left wrist. "Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Hey, hey. You have some thermal burns, okay? We need to get you to the hospital. Just stay with me, all right? Hold onto me." The walkie had fallen when Sara had gone for the fire extinguisher, so she snatched it off the ground. "This is CSI Sidle. I need an ambulance and the fire department."

Dispatch responded as she set the walkie down again. "_Copy that, CSI Sidle. Sending now. Ambulance and fire are on their way._"

* * *

Grissom entered the morgue with a sense of disbelief. Heather Kessler, a Lady and a Doctor, was gone. Sara had told him what had happened while she was waiting for Brass to get checked out. Heather had tried to sneak out of her house while Sara was inside and then gotten into her car, which had exploded moments after she turned it on. Had she known it was rigged to blow? Was getting in that car her way to avoid prosecution for orchestrating two bombings? Or was she just another victim of the person framing her?

David was taking pictures. The fire set by the car bomb had burned hot and fast. The body on this table was burned beyond recognition, but Sara had been adamant that the woman getting in that car was Heather. Doc glanced up when Grissom walked in and nodded to him in acknowledgement. Catherine walked in right behind him and the two stood next to the table while the coroners worked. Grissom watched as Doc cut a necklace from the corpse. It looked like the one Heather always wore. Doc handed the necklace to David and David put it in a jar.

Catherine placed a hand on Grissom's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Gil."

Grissom nodded. It was such a shame. Heather had her faults, everyone did, but she had been a good person overall. He looked back at Heather's body. That's when he noticed something wasn't right. It was the hands that tipped him off. He had gotten to know Heather quite well over the years, so he knew something was off about this body when he finally allowed an analytical mind to do it's job. This body may have had Heather's dimensions, physical properties, clothes and necklace, but this body was not Heather. Grissom touched the hands briefly and then turned and left the morgue. He had an important call to make.

* * *

Grissom walked into the bar alone. The patrons were nursing their drinks or talking with one another, but that isn't what brought him here. He walked down the space between the booths and the tables, the dim lighting making the old bar feel like a forbidden speakeasy. In a sense, the woman he was here to meet was just as dangerous as prohibition bootleg, but some would argue that that just added to the allure. He took his seat across from the woman and folded his hands.

"Hello, Heather."

She smiled at him. "Thank you for coming."

He nodded and then gestured to her hands. "You still have your rings." She glanced at them. "You never take your rings off."

"Why would I?"

They looked at each other for a while, each trying to figure out where they stood with the other. "I have to bring you in. Everyone in law enforcement thinks you're responsible for these bombings."

Heather looked at Grissom for a while, fidgeting slightly, and then nodded subtly. "I am." She raised her glass and downed the contents, never taking her eyes off his face. "Shall we?"

* * *

**A/N: That is the end of part one of the two hour finale. I'll be taking a week off from posting to edit and then we'll resume. Stay tuned!**


	70. Chapter 70

**Author's Note: ****I'd like to thank phnxgrl and was spratlurid quimby for their reviews. This chapter starts part two of the series finale episode. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 70

Grissom walking into the station with Lady Heather was surprising. The LVPD had been looking for her for a couple days and just hours after her supposed death, Grissom had not only found her, but convinced her to come in. Considering she was the prime suspect in the bombings, it was shocking that she would voluntarily put herself in a situation where she was basically under arrest. Russell, Morgan, Catherine, and Sara were waiting outside the Interrogation Room for her. Lady Heather's eyes were looking Sara up and down. The brunette held her head high and stared Heather down.

Russell was the first to speak as Heather's eyes landed on him. "Thank you." Heather didn't speak, but she did enter the room with an officer at her heels.

Grissom looked a little uncomfortable. "I haven't spoken to her about the case, but she's come in here voluntarily, so… please treat her with respect." His request was sounding like a question.

"Of course." Sara wanted to add on, "_as long as she does,_" but that wouldn't be very professional.

The CSI's all entered the room and Grissom walked away, feeling a little guilty. Heather was asked if she'd like anything to drink and she requested some tea, which was brought to her quickly. For the longest time, she simply dunked the tea bag in the water, occasionally taking a sip and then resuming something of a staring contest with the CSI's. Russell had stepped out to take a call, so Morgan asked Heather all the usual preliminary questions, (what is your name, did you used to go by the name Lady Heather), and Dr. Kessler would answer in as few words as possible.

Russell finally came in after his call with Ecklie. "Dr. Kessler, thank you very much for coming in today. Obviously, we have a lot of questions for you about the bombings."

"And hopefully I can provide answers."

Sara was sitting on the opposite end of the table from Russell. "I'll start, Dr. Kessler. As much as I'd like to roll out the 'voluntary' red carpet, and welcome you here to your own bombing party, I can't find it in my bones to overrule my gut, so I'm just gonna ask you the obvious question. Are you, or are you not, behind the bombings?"

Instead of answering the question, Heather returned Sara's enmity with some of her own. "Your hostility connotes jealousy and resentment. It doesn't suit you, Sara. Not in your… present situation."

"You know what, I'm not in the mood, Heather. I'd like you to answer my question."

Heather smirked and gestured towards her cup as she spoke. "And I'd like some more tea."

Russell tried to step in and redirect the tension. "Dr. Kessler, we'll get you more tea in a moment, but… I do have a question for you."

Heather turned toward Russell and her hostility vanished. "I came here to clear my name. Ask away."

"At your residence, our CSI's found a lot of blood in your living room. Not a drop of it was yours. Can you explain that?"

Heather sucked in a breath. "I came home after a long day and was surprised by an intruder." Heather described the attack and how she managed to fight off her attacker.

Catherine jumped in at the end of Heather's story. "And you didn't bother to call the cops?"

"No." Heather's voice was cold now. "After the death of my daughter Zoe and the unsolved vehicular murder of my granddaughter Alison, I've lost all faith in law enforcement." Her eyes returned to Sara, suggesting there was another reason she didn't involve the police.

Catherine continued. "What about the look-alike in your home? The lady who blew up in your car?"

Heather shook her head. "I don't know who she was. I assume whoever's framing me sent her in to send Sara on a wild-goose chase."

"The only one sending us on a wild-goose chase is you." Sara wasn't liking how she was having to sit here and take the subtle abuses of this woman.

Heather responded in kind. "You only have your claws out because of the intimacy between your ex-husband and I."

Sara softened her voice and smirked. "Now who's being hostile?"

Heather smiled. "Needle away, Sara. After all, I've been on both sides of the pricking. It takes a lot more than that to unsettle me and you're only half the woman you used to be."

Sara could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. "All right, okay. Clearly my presence here is distracting. I'm out of here." Sara backed up from the table and quickly propelled herself out of the room.

A moment later, Catherine got up and followed her. Russell watched them go and then turned back to Heather. "Ma'am… you mentioned being framed. Could that have anything to do with the missing client tapes?"

Morgan had been quiet for a while, but with half the CSI's no longer in the room, it was up to her to take up the slack. "Sara found three months of mini cassettes missing from your office. Do you think whoever's framing you…"

"Yes." Heather nodded. "How else would the bomber know about the gambling and mental issues of my patients?"

* * *

**Meanwhile…**

Catherine followed Sara into the observation room. "Just breathe, Sara. She's only trying to get a rise out of you. And the more you let her get to you, the more control she has."

Sara was breathing hard and nodding. "I know. I- I'm sorry, I… I lost my cool. Damn it. The way she kept suggesting that this," she gestured to herself, "made me less than whole, it…" she sighed, "it got under my skin and I couldn't help it."

"Don't beat yourself up. I don't feel the way you do about Grissom or this, and I want to kill the bitch with my bare hands." Sara looked at Catherine and tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come. "I'm a woman; I know it when I see it. So does she. Remember that."

Sara turned back to the window. "And her adding my injury into the insults didn't help matters any."

"No, it didn't." Catherine put a comforting hand on Sara's shoulder. "I'm going back in. You going to be okay?"

Sara sighed. "Yeah, I'll be okay."

* * *

**Meanwhile…**

Heather was looking at her rings. "I shut down my practice the day my granddaughter died. The second she left this world, I lost everything that I ever cared about. I couldn't go on. I gave my patients three months' notice and I retired."

Catherine had reentered the room and was standing behind her chair. "Is that why you sent your patient into my casino? To enact revenge on the world? You told Grissom that you were the one behind the bombings."

"I am."

"Is that a confession?"

Heather was still being cold to Catherine. "I'm not implication myself as the mastermind behind the bombings or the bombers. My suspicion is someone is framing me, and may be a former Red Room client of mine. I just don't know who or why."

"Can you provide a list of names?"

Heather looked at Catherine like the question was the most ridiculous one she'd heard today. "Of course I can."

* * *

Under the supervision of Grissom and Catherine, Lady Heather put up the photos of her former Red Room clients on the board. "That's everyone. All thirteen gold key members."

"May I?" Catherine grabbed a marker and started crossing out pictures.

"What are you doing?"

"The blood found in your home was male. I'm eliminating the female suspects for now."

"Oh." Lady Heather stepped forward and held out her hand. "May I?"

The women looked at each other for a long moment and then Catherine reluctantly handed the marker to Lady Heather. She moved up to the board and uncapped the marker. Catherine turned to Grissom, who shrugged, and they turned to watch Heather. She crossed out four additional pictures before capping the marker and taking a step back.

Grissom kept his eyes on Heather. "Why are they eliminated?"

"They're dead." Heather pointed to each in turn as she listed their causes of death. "Heart attack, aneurysm, drug overdose, cancer."

Catherine did the quick math. "That leaves five."

"In your opinion, do you think one of these five men is the mastermind behind the bombings?" Heather was looking at Grissom as she said this.

Grissom pushed off of the table and walked closer to the pictures. "I do." He studied the pictures. "So… who are you?"

* * *

Because she had been unable to handle being in Lady Heather's presence, Sara volunteered to be on swab duty. Part of her was regretting that now that she was talking to Mr. Schember. She was trying to get him to open his mouth to swab it so Henry could run DNA, but he was either stalling or not getting what he was really doing here.

He handed her his lanyard. "Here's my ID card. I'm a mechanic at McCarran International Airport." Sara handed the ID back, but he kept on talking. "We're the eleventh busiest airport in the world, with over a million surveillance cameras."

_That's what this was about; he was establishing that he probably had an alibi_. "Mr. Schember, do I have your consent to swab your mouth for a DNA sample?"

"Oh, yeah." He smiled and nodded, and then opened his mouth.

When it came time to swab client two's mouth, he held out a long and loud "Aaaaaahhhhh…." until Sara was able to get herself loud enough to be heard over it. "Mr. Wittington, I'm all done, sir."

Client three was the silent type. "Mr. Territo, you can open your mouth, or I can get a court order to get your DNA another way, but I don't think you're gonna like it."

Territo sighed. "How are you gonna…"

As soon as Sara saw his mouth open, she lunged forward and stuck the swab inside. "Thank you. Next!"

The well-dressed man who walked in was client four, and he was the type of man who would brag about his conquests. "I was her first client, you know– Lady Heather."

The last person Sara wanted to hear described as a conquest was Lady Heather. "Congratulations. Open up, please."

Sara leaned forward to collect the DNA sample, but he started talking again. "When she got you into her bed, you didn't want anything else."

Sara's patience was running thin with this man. "You want to do me a favor? Open your mouth and shut up." The client was smirking as he opened his mouth.

The last client was in a wheelchair like Sara. Her immediate thought was that he wasn't involved, but then she had to remember that even if his DNA wasn't at Lady Heather's house, that didn't mean he wasn't the mastermind. He came to a stop in front of her and Sara asked him to open his mouth. Unlike the others, he just opened up and let her do her job.

"Thank you, Mr. Rooney." She capped the swab.

"Thank you."

Sara felt he was hitting on her. "May I ask you a personal question?"

"Please." With the way he's said that, the possibility was very high right now.

She still felt a little awkward asking this question. "How long have you been in that wheelchair?"

"For as long as I can remember." He glanced over at Sara's chair. "How about you?"

She hesitated, but decided to e honest. "Two years."

Sara rolled out of PD as soon as she was done with the swab collection and returned to the lab. Henry took the samples straight to his lab and got started on the analysis. Sara watched him work, nervous about the results they might get. Five suspects was a lot better than a hundred, but what if none of these men had attacked Heather? A negative result would set them back a few weeks and by then the killer might have fled.

When Henry finally printed out the results of the DNA swabs, Sara took one look and went to tell Grissom at the station. "Negative. None of the five suspects' DNA matches the blood we found at Lady Heather's. It's a dead end."

Grissom turned to look at the five suspects. "Well, you won't be able to hold 'em."

"No."

Catherine walked up to Sara and Grissom. "Just came from the hospital. Brass is going to be fine. Giving the nurses hell, of course, but... keeping them entertained." Grissom laughed and Catherine noticed the brand new redhead coming down the hall. "Hey, you." She was laughing as she watched the girl rolling a suitcase down the hall. "What you got there? You going somewhere?"

The redhead put the case in front of her. "Me? No. It's Mr. Grissom's. Uh, did you forget your luggage? I found it outside the front door."

All eyes turned to Grissom as he shook his head. "That's not mine."

"It's not?" The new CSI was confused and she checked the tag again. "It says your name on it."

The whole room froze for a minute and then Catherine screamed "Bomb!" She lunged forward and grabbed the girl's hand as everyone ran for the exits. "Everybody out! Now!" Officers started shepherding everyone outside and in no time the entire precinct was empty. The Bomb Squad was called in and they deployed a bomb disposal robot to check the suitcase out. With two bombs having already exploded in Vegas, and with an officer dead from the second one, no one was taking any chances.

Grissom, Sara, and Catherine were out at the command center in the parking lot. Sara was sitting at the computers with Grissom and Catherine looking over her shoulders. They watched the robot approach the case and then it began the process of x-raying the contents. One computer was displaying what the robot was seeing and the other was revealing the x-ray image.

Grissom spoke first. "Is that a human body?"

* * *

Doc and David examined the human torso and found something in his mouth. When they were done with the exam, David brought that something upstairs. "It's a micro SD card. 'SD' as in secure digital."

Sara looked from the card to David. "This is what you guys found inside the cadaver?"

"Mm-hmm."

Russell plugged the card into the drive and a video file came up. In the foreground, a table with bomb making equipment on it was in front of someone, but they couldn't make out the person's face. Some sort of red swirly thing was obscuring the face and part of the torso for what could only be the bomber's body. The background didn't offer any clues at first blush either.

Sara voiced what they were all thinking. "What in the world is that?"

Russell shrugged. "Looks like some form of digital identity concealment."

He hit play and the person on the video started talking, although their voice was being altered too. "If you're watching this video, I want you dead. If you're not dead, you've been kept alive… for the purpose of psychological torture. Human heads will rip off shoulders. Bones will snap and fly from flesh. Innocent blood will stain and spill. Casino man and teacher lady… were just the beginning. The grand finale is specifically designed for you."

Henry walked in just after the video ended. "I have DNA results on torso man. A curious name popped up in CODIS. Do you guys remember a man named Jacob Wolfowitz?"

"He was convicted of killing Lady Heather's daughter years ago."

Sara turned to Grissom. "He's also the man that Lady Heather almost killed, until you intervened." Grissom nodded. He remembered that night well. It wasn't a fond memory.

"It was Wolfowitz in that suitcase." Henry handed the results to Catherine.

"Wasn't he sentenced to life in prison?"

"Well, he's out. Well, half of him, anyway."

Sara glanced at the page as it was handed from Catherine to Grissom. "So, clearly, somebody out there is obsessed with Lady Heather, and by the looks of what we found in the suitcase…" Sara looked up at Grissom, "somebody might be obsessed with you, too."

* * *

**A/N: Believe it or not, the interrogation scene was the hardest to adapt and include Sara's wheelchair in Lady Heather's responses. I hope I was able to make it sound like something Heather would say to throw Sara off her game. Let me know what you think and stay tuned for more!**


	71. Chapter 71

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank phnxgrl and a Guest for their reviews. This chapter picks up where the episode does. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 71

After what they had found out from the body and the video, Grissom needed a moment to himself to think. This case wasn't just about Lady Heather; it was about him too. It was weird to be the focus of a killer's attention. It had happened too rarely while he was the lab director here, and now he had become the focus of a serial bomber when he wasn't even living in Vegas. It was strange to think of how this might have happened.

He took out his sketching notebook, sat on a bench outside PD with the sun at his back and started to draw. He enjoyed doing this. He had gotten pretty good at it now that he lived on a boat out in the middle of the ocean. There was a lot of time to devote himself to practicing. And it was soothing too. For a long time, he didn't even focus on what he was working on, but eventually a blue whale behind a great white shark filled the pages.

He was shading in some more when Catherine found him. "Hard at work, I see."

He looked up at Catherine and then back down at his sketch. "I am."

"Drawing sea creatures." Catherine stopped walking.

"Whales and sharks. Metaphor for Vegas, if you think about it. Whales bring the money in, the sharks take it away. Whales are bigger in size and stature, but they're the submissive. Sharks are smaller, but they're by far the more dominant." He paused and thought for a moment. "I think someone's out there playing the dominant, but he's really the submissive."

"Okay." Catherine had no idea what Grissom was talking about. "Listen…" she cleared her throat and sat down, "I need a favor. The new girl – she's having a bit of a rough one. She thinks she let you down. I was hoping you might be able to help her process the suitcase, give her a little of that Grissom TLC? She could really use it."

"I'd rather not." He gestured to his surroundings. "I'm quite content here." He went back to his drawing. "Where did that girl come from, anyway?"

Catherine had been using the visual of the suitcase to let Grissom remember where he had seen the girl last, but she had no idea he didn't remember her at all. "My vagina." Grissom looked up at Catherine, very confused and a little surprised by her choice of words. "You don't recognize her?" She started to laugh. "Grissom, that's Lindsey. That's my daughter."

Realization of who the redhead who'd recognized him flooded over Grissom and he looked stunned. That's how she had known who he was and felt so comfortable with him when he first walked in. That's how she had known what his rituals for rookies had been. Her mother had told her all about the blood and cockroaches. Catherine laughed at the face Grissom was making. Now she understood why Grissom had been acting weird around Lindsey. She had grown up so much since the last time he had seen her that he no longer recognized her. Catherine patted Grissom on the shoulder and stood up to go back inside, a laugh still in her smile and heart.

* * *

**Meanwhile...**

Russell had been playing with the video scrambler. "Oh, look at that. I got an ear." He sat back in his chair with a massive grin on his face. "I got an ear!"

Hodges had been walking past the office, but stuck his head in when Russell shouted. "Wait. Did I… did I hear you right? You got an ear?"

Russell couldn't stop smiling. "Yeah, come here. I got a… yeah, I got an ear. This stuff's amazing." He turned the computer around so Hodges could see it. "Whoever sent this video was using homemade software to swirl the image, right? So, pixel by pixel, I've been trying to reverse the digital concealment. It's like, uh, unscrambling scrambled eggs or something, but I-" he turned the computer back around to study what he had, "I got an ear. And we know that our bomber is Caucasian. I gotta get this to Sara."

Russell printed out what he had been able to reassemble from the video and gave it to Sara. The brunette took the photo and the video to PD for Lady Heather to look at. She was less than excited to share the room with that woman again, especially after the way she had been treated earlier. Heather also didn't look happy to see this particular CSI again, but she didn't launch into any barbs about Sara's injury, so maybe this round wouldn't be as bad. Sara opened the laptop and hit play on the video. Dr. Kessler watched the video with almost no reaction, so Sara was still suspicious.

Sara slid Russell's partially reassembled photo across the table to Heather. "From what we can surmise from the partially reassembled photo and the auditory voice analysis, the person in the video is Caucasian, forties maybe. We also believe that the gender isn't female."

Heather had been examining the photo, but she put it down as Sara finished talking. "Are you clearing me?"

"I'm clearing you from being the person in the video. I have not ruled you out as a suspect."

"But you're not here alone without Grissom to show me a marbled face and shoddy audio. You're here for another reason, aren't you?"

Sara knew her civility had been too good to last. "I'm here, based on what I've shown you, to ask you if you have any idea who's behind this."

Heather looked at Sara for a long moment, sizing her up, and then sighed deeply. "I've had thousands of clients and patients come through my domain throughout the years. Any one of them can be after me for a million unforeseeable reasons."

Sara could tell the Heather was fishing for the trigger, but she wasn't going to play her game. "I'm not talking about you, Heather. This is about Grissom." For the first time, Heather appeared concerned. Or maybe she was thinking Sara was sad and petty. It was hard to tell with this woman sometimes. "Why would one of your clients or patients be after him? If you're not behind this, then help me. Help him."

Heather's eyes narrowed as she analyzed the brunette. "You're scared for him, aren't you?"

"I am."

Heather continued her scrutiny. "Do you love him?"

Sara hesitated, trying to figure out what Heather was up to, but then she decided to answer honestly. "I do."

Heather nodded and a subtle smile graced her lips. "I believe you."

"You should." The women looked at each other for a long moment and then Sara turned the scrutiny back on Heather. "Do you?"

Heather knew what Sara was asking, but she wanted to make her say it. "Do I what?"

"Love him."

Heather was silent for a while, still staring, still hiding everything. "No. I'm afraid I can't help you."

Heather slid the photo back towards Sara, her face a perfect mask of control. Sara hated how good this woman was at concealing her thoughts the way she was right now. Did the "no" mean she didn't love Grissom, or was it no, she couldn't help? It didn't matter how long she sat in there staring this woman down, if Heather didn't want to talk, she wasn't going to. Sara gathered up her things and headed out of the room. Man, she really hated that woman sometimes.

* * *

Now that Grissom knew who the redhead was, he was willing to help her out with the suitcase. For the longest time, they worked in silence. Grissom could see that she kept looking up at him, but she never said anything. Eventually she stopped looking and Grissom got the chance to look at her. She had grown up since he'd seen her last. He knew she would have, that's the way time worked, but he was still surprised to see that the girl he'd once known was now the woman standing in front of him.

He started to pay attention to how she worked and smiled when he saw that she was an expert at dusting already despite being so new to the job. "That's the way, Lindsey. It's all in the wrist." She looked nervous now that he was speaking to her and noticing what she was doing, so he redirected her focus. "What's our motto?"

She recited the answer from memory. "Too much dust, the evidence may rust. Dust too lightly, it acts impolitely."

"Hmm." He kept dusting. "I got another one for you."

She was still nervous. "Mm-hmm."

"Evidence may bare, even if rare. But it's what's not there, that gives you a scare."

She was finally smiling. "That's my favorite one yet." Lindsey returned to dusting and then noticed something that didn't seem to fit on the case. "Hmm. Wow." She looked up at Grissom. "I think I might have one for you."

Grissom looked up and smiled. "Go ahead."

She paused to put her discovery into a rhyme. "I think I found a clue to thicken the plot. What doesn't belong…" she turned to case so Grissom could see it, "is 'x' marks the spot."

Grissom looked up in awe. This might be a big clue. He grabbed a pair of tweezers while Lindsey came around the table to watch him work. Grissom grabbed a corner of the "x" sticker with the tweezers and carefully peeled it from the case. Under the sticker was a drawing of a building with numbers written underneath. The bomber was giving them a breadcrumb to follow.

Lindsey pulled a magnifying glass from her lab coat pocket and held it in front of the building. "Hey, I know what those numbers are. Latitude and longitude."

"Hmm." Lindsey looked up at Grissom, waiting to hear his insight. "Clever girl. Do you mind finishing up this case? I need to tell someone about this."

"Sure."

Grissom thanked Lindsey and had Mitch drive him out to the location the latitude and longitude numbers had given him. The property was a bit run down and out of the way. It was unlikely that anyone was here, but the bomber must have left something here or he wouldn't have put it on the suitcase the body had been delivered in. Mitch and Grissom got out of the car and Grissom shut his door.

Mitch stayed with his cruiser. "You want some company?"

"I'm good, Mitch." Grissom walked to the front door, paused outside it, and then opened it. The door creaked open from years of little to no use. Birds had taken up residence here it seemed, and the creak of the door had startled them. The inside of the space was mostly empty, but there was a gurney with a sheet draped over it in the middle of the room. Grissom took off his sunglasses and started walking toward it.

His steps were measured during his approach. He walked at an easy pace, not sure what he was about to see. When he was within a few feet of the gurney, he stopped and stooped a little to try and see if the display was booby trapped. There didn't appear to be any wires or explosives at a glance, so Grissom got a little closer. He carefully pinched the sheet and then quickly pulled it off to reveal what was hidden underneath.

He had expected to find a bomb or dead body, but what he found was a SynDaver. Somehow the SynDaver was even creepier than a dead body would be; it probably had something to do with the space and staging. Grissom removed the rest of the sheet and let it fall to the floor. What was the bomber trying to say with this? What was the point of sending him out here? _Maybe there was something in the body._

Grissom leaned in to take a closer look and the eyes opened. He jumped back, startled, and then looked back at the synthetic cadaver. If the bomber had wanted to scare him, he had succeeded.

* * *

Doc had just finished sawing open the chest cavity of the SynDaver when Grissom walked in. "Dr. Grissom, meet Mr. SynDaver," Doc Robbins grabbed the spreaders, "the, uh, latest craze in the medical industry. These, uh, synthetic cadavers were all the rage last year at the surgeons' conference held in Boston. They allow doctors to perform surgeries without having to use real bodies."

Grissom had been examining the SynDaver and was now watching Doc open the fake body's chest. "I prefer the real dead bodies."

"Me, too." The chest opened and a buzzing sound was heard as a bee flew out of the body and landed on Doc's hand. "Ow!" He let go of the spreader and grabbed at his hand.

Grissom stopped him. "Don't move, Doc." He concentrated on the buzzing sound to locate where the bee was heading. The buzzing stopped on the nearby table. Grissom approached slowly and then placed a plastic cup over it. "Sorry, my little Apis mellifera. Good work, Doc."

Doc turned back to the fake body in a huff. "Hmm."

* * *

Grissom watched a group of bees feast on a chunk of raw meat. "So what do you think? Cell phone towers? Insecticides? I mean, for you guys to bail on your queen like that, leaving her to fend for herself in the company of immature bees? No wonder colony collapse disorder is an issue in your hive." Sara had rolled into the room without him noticing, but when she stood her chair up, he straightened up with a start. "Hi." She nodded, waiting for him to continue. "I was talking to the bees."

"Shocker." After being married to him, she wasn't surprised. They looked at the bees in silence for a while, each uncomfortable to be near the other. Sara finally decided to get to the point. "I heard you were in here. I thought maybe you could use some help."

Grissom looked up, a little surprised and pleased in the same moment. "I'd love some." He looked away, a smile hovering on his lips. "I miss working side by side with you. You and the bees."

"Question is, how did the bee get in the cadaver?"

Just like Sara had snuck up on Grissom, Hodges snuck up on both of them. "I bee-lieve, Mr. Bee- rest in peace- hitched a ride from the woods. Taxonomy came back." Hodges flipped open the folder and threaded it between the pair so they could both see. "Insecta, Hymenoptera, Apocrita, Apoidea…"

Grissom skipped to the end of the list. "Andrenidae. A mining bee. Forest area, Mount Charleston?"

While Grissom had been theorizing, Hodges slowly started to smirk. He had missed Grissom being in the lab. Somehow, this man had so much knowledge in his head that he often didn't need the full report to know what the information meant. With that list of classifications, Grissom had been able to narrow down their species of bee and the search area to a mining bee from Mt. Charleston.

Sara smiled. "I'll drive."

* * *

**A/N: Part of the scene between Catherine and Grissom didn't make sense when I watched it. Why was Catherine referring to her daughter as "the new girl"? I hope the internal thought process I gave Catherine makes sense to explain that scene a bit better. Stay tuned!**


	72. Chapter 72

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank phnxgrl and a Guest for their review. This chapter is a bit long and starts where the last one left off. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 72

The drive was long, but Sara had gotten used to driving in her new car by now. The freedom it gave her had been a welcome change from having to rely on everyone in the lab helping her to get around. She had been able to get out more and had actually joined a support group for people who had been traumatically paralyzed. Her social life outside the lab was getting better.

Today was a field trip of sorts. Grissom had an idea for tracking down the exact location the mining bee in the SynDaver had come from. When they arrived, he got busy setting up everything he'd need for this experiment. Sara was struggling to put on the bee suit while he was busy with that, but by the time he was done, she had gotten into the suit and perched the netting hat on her head.

Grissom was bending over to look at the bees when Sara joined him under the popup. "Sniffer bees. The world's greatest bloodhounds."

"So, you've already trained the bees with nectar, and each color-coded jar has its own individual recipe." She followed him from the bees to the other table.

Grissom placed the jars into a carrier. "And we place the open jars into the six different regions on Mount Charleston, so we cover the whole forest." While Grissom explained his plan, Sara waved over the cadets. "Okay, kids, take these and place them." He handed the carriers to the cadets. "Caps off. Use the maps." He gestured to Sara and she handed the maps out to the cadets as well. "Follow your maps exactly." He turned to the bees. "Now, all we have to do is paint the bees to match the color region, so we know where they've been."

Sara followed him and stood her chair up. "Green- northwest part of the forest, orange- southeast part of the forest…"

"Once they're painted, we simply bid them adieu, and the search is on. When we release the colored bees, their first priority is to separate and find their nectar. While in flight, they naturally inhale everything in the forest, so when they return to their colored boxes, we can test their hives for the presence of humans in high elevations. So, if we get a hit, we'll know exactly where to look."

Sara carefully held a bee and brushed the paint on its body. "First time for everything."

Grissom watched her work. "Excellent. Well done."

Sara smiled. This is what she remembered and liked about working with Grissom. Hopefully the rest of the time he was here would go this smoothly.

* * *

**One hour later...**

Sara had removed most of the bee suit, but she kept on the hat while they waited for the bees to return. Grissom was working on something on the table next to her left side, but she was certain it had no immediate importance. After almost an hour, she lifted one leg to cross the other and then folded back the netting on her hat so she could breathe a little easier. She took a sip from her thermos and stared at the horizon in the distance.

Grissom set down his work and looked over at her. He was once again struck with how beautiful she was. At the moment, she was looking out into the distance. He couldn't tell if she was avoiding looking at him or if her thoughts were out in that distance. She had folded back the netting of her hat and he did the same, unsure how to start a conversation with her after what had happened between them. She had been distant with him earlier, something he couldn't blame her for, and she hadn't told him about her paralysis until he was on his way here. That was something he didn't understand, and he didn't know how to bring it up either. He was just going to have to take a leap of faith.

Sara's gaze shifted to a box. "Hey. Orange is back." She put her netting down and rolled to face the table.

Grissom decided to shelve the conversation for later as he glanced at the map. "Orange is region six. Man, they're fast." He and Sara pulled on long gloves and headed for the box. Grissom stuck the scent detector in the top of the box and ran the test. The machine beeped and he looked at the results. "Human presence negative."

"So he's not in the southeast corner." She headed for their map. "We can eliminate that region." She crossed off region six and turned to face Grissom. "Five more to go."

For the next several minutes, Grissom was floating between the colored boxes, trying to make sure he checked the boxes as soon as a bee returned. He was checking the pink box when a buzzing sound alerted him to a bee's return. "Hey, green is back." Sara rolled over to him while he ran the test and when it beeped, he angled it so they both could see the result. He shook his head when it came back negative and Sara returned to the map to cross off region one.

The pair returned to the popup to wait for the next bee to return. Grissom noticed it first. "Red's here." He ran the test and the result was positive. "Finally, we got a hit. Red, human presence."

Sara had gone to the board. "Region two. 7,500 feet elevation. That's steep. Top of the mountain. Due north, Mount Charleston. Could be a hiker."

Sara was right, but they couldn't take that chance. "Yeah. Could be a killer."

* * *

**Meanwhile...**

Russell had been having little luck with unscrambling the image, so he tried a different technique. He isolated the swirled part of the image and dragged the saturation from all red to black and white. What he found was an image that looked suspiciously like a scrambled fingerprint.

He grabbed his phone. "Catherine… the swirl image… it- it wasn't designed just to conceal the face. It has friction ridges. It's an ulnar loop." He paused while she asked a question. "No, no, this is a hidden fingerprint."

Russell hung up with Catherine and unscrambled the fingerprint. It turned out that the print was actually jumbled a bit more than he had initially thought. The fingerprint was in little boxes spread across the area that had then been swirled. Now it was a matter of unscrambling the pieces of the print. He isolated the print parts and ran them through a program that sped up the process.

After several minutes, the print was finally reassembled. "Oh, my. Here you are." He put the print into AFIS.

Catherine walked in. "I got here as soon as I could."

"Still searching." Not long after he said that, the computer spit out a result. "It worked. We got a hit."

Catherine recognized the image that came up. "Sara interrogated that guy. He's one of the five gold key suspects." She grabbed her phone and speed dialed Greg. "Greg, grab Morgan. We're heading out. We got a name and residence of the bomber: 1475 Coven Gardens Road. I'll meet you there."

* * *

Catherine went to check out the suspect's apartment with a few LVPD uniforms, but it was empty. She left most of the uniforms upstairs to secure the apartment and met up with Greg and Morgan downstairs. "Suspect's apartment is clear, but we have reports of suspicious activity in the parking garage."

The suspicious activity was on parking level four. While uniforms were keeping people off this level and away from the suspect's apartment, Catherine, Greg, and Morgan went to check out what was going on in the parking structure. Three car alarms were blaring, echoing off the concrete walls and ceiling, making the noises louder and more annoying. Catherine squatted in front of the nearest car and carefully opened the trunk.

Inside were sixteen bricks of C4 and a timer that had activated when the trunk was opened. There was only five minutes to disarm the bomb. Greg and Morgan raced to the other two cars and opened their trunks too. All three trunks contained sixteen bricks of C4 with less than five minutes on the timer and enough shrapnel to kill anyone and everyone nearby.

Catherine hadn't moved from her trunk. "You seeing this?!"

Greg turned to respond. "The timers are synchronized!"

"We have less than five minutes to figure this out!"

* * *

**Meanwhile…**

It had taken a long time to search this region, but they had eventually found a house up in the forest that was being occupied. Uniforms arrived first and they turned off their lights as they approached to try and make sure that they didn't alert the suspect. Sara's car came in behind them and she too turned off her lights. While her chair was being lowered from the car, the uniforms ahead of her were quietly getting out of their cruisers and grabbing their shotguns and personal weapons.

Sara and Grissom followed the uniforms, who were taking positions of cover, toward the suspect's house. As they passed a squad car, Catherine's voice came over the radio. "_Dispatch, we are here at the Maggadino Apartments off of Coven Gardens. The entire garage is rigged with explosives on timers_." Grissom and Sara looked at each other, concerned for their friends. "_The building is fully occupied. We are in grave danger. Repeat, we are in grave danger_."

The door to the cabin opened. "Hold your fire! He's wired!"

Sara and Grissom both looked back at the cabin as the door opened. Sara recognized the man walking out as the one who'd bragged about his conquest of Lady Heather while she'd swabbed his mouth. "Dalton Betton? How is that possible?" He was wearing a bomb vest covered in C4 bricks and holding what looked like a timer. The timer was counting down and had just over three minutes on it. Sara had a feeling this timer was linked to the bombs Catherine was facing right now. Things were not looking good.

Betton surveyed his audience and noticed Grissom. "Mr. Grissom."

Sara and Grissom moved forward. "His DNA wasn't a match." Sara was still in shock over the revelation of the bomber's identity.

Betton still had his eyes locked on Grissom's face. "I push this button, your friends die. I pull this cord, we die. Finally… I have all the power."

* * *

**Meanwhile…**

Catherine walked toward Morgan. "I hate to break it, but we don't have time for the bomb squad. This is our problem now."

Morgan was looking at the bomb. "Well, what kind of bomb is this?"

Greg had joined them at the middle car. "Daisy chain bomb. If one goes off, they all go off. Not to mention there's enough C4 in here to take down this entire apartment complex."

"The only way out of this is if we cut the wires at the same time." Catherine took the lead here. "We each have to take a car. Cut on my verbal command. If we're a millisecond early or late, the bombs will detonate. This building is filled with civilians. We can't walk away from this. This is all or nothing now. Do or die. You with me?"

Catherine glanced from Greg to Morgan. She was scared of dying here and now, but if they weren't willing to try to stop this bomb, hers wasn't the only life that would end tonight. Greg was stoic and nodded. He also knew what was at stake and was willing to at least try. Morgan was terrified. This was not what she'd thought she'd be facing when she came here tonight and her inability to completely hide her emotions was betraying her fears.

Despite that, Morgan nodded too and grabbed a pair of wire cutters from her vest. "Yeah." Her hands were trembling as she handed the cutters to Catherine. Catherine took them and glanced at her friends one last time. There was no going back now.

Catherine walked back to her assigned car and took a closer look at the bomb. "Four colors here. Orange, yellow, red, black. Red, black…" She thought back to everything the Bureau had taught her about bomb disposal and made her decision. "Okay, we've got less than two minutes! I want you to carefully take out your wire cutters and steady the blades around the plastic coating of the red wire! I repeat, the red wire!"

* * *

**Meanwhile…**

While Grissom walked to stand at her side, Sara figured out why the DNA hadn't matched the DNA from Heather's house. "Mr. Betton, the illness you're concealing, is it cancer?"

Betton still wouldn't take his eyes from Grissom. "Lymphoma."

"If one leaves his blood in Lady Heather's house while undergoing stem cell treatment, changing the genetic complexion of his DNA, does that make him two different people?" Grissom was waxing philosophic despite the danger they were in.

"Scientifically, I have two genetic makeups." He finally looked at Sara. "Your cheek swab will tell you that. Philosophically," his eyes went back to Grissom, "I sent those people in to do my dirty work. All to come face-to-face with you." He held up the detonation button. "Ticktock… ticktock."

Sara was getting irritated. "What do you want?"

Betton pointed at Grissom. "His life. He ruined her. He took her away from me the moment he stopped Lady Heather from killing Wolfowitz. I was the first client. I was the first man she slept with in the dungeon. And then you came along and you turned her heart. She quit role-playing because of you. She quit her practice because of you." He started to get emotional, "She quit me… because of you. And now… everything Heather and I once had is gone."

"You can't lose something you never had, Mr. Betton." Grissom's tone was even, but there was a threat hiding beneath the surface. "Lady Heather never slept with you. She never slept with any of her clients or her patients. But you've been emotionally attached to her. Haven't you? The question now is… how attached are you to that bomb?"

* * *

**Meanwhile…**

Morgan was terrified. She had been shaking ever since she had opened the trunk and saw the bomb, but now she was downright trembling. The blades of her wire cutters had been dancing around the red wire ever since Catherine had told them which one to cut. She glanced at Greg and wondered how he could be so steady right now. They were quite possibly about to die and he was standing like a rock three cars down.

Catherine called out to them so they could be synchronized. "All right, listen to the sound of my voice! We snip on 'one!'" Her voice was tinged with fear, even though her hands were steady. "I love you guys!"

Morgan took a shuddering breath and let it out with a sob. She was thinking about everything she had not been given the chance to say because they had no time for last goodbyes. She wanted to tell her mom and dad how much she loved them. She definitely wanted to get the chance to talk to her dad again. In the few years she'd been here, their relationship had gotten so much better than it had been, but she didn't know if he really knew how she felt.

There was no time for that now. Catherine was yelling to them again. "Counting down from ten… nine… eight… seven…"

Morgan's hands had become sweaty and her wire cutters flipped out of her hands and out of the trunk. "Oh, shoot! Oh…"

"Six… five…" Morgan snatched the wire cutters off the ground and stood up as Catherine looked over at her. "Got it?"

Morgan carefully, but quickly, put the cutters back in her right hand. "Yeah."

Catherine went back into the countdown as if nothing had happened. "Two… one!"

* * *

**Meanwhile…**

The countdown Betton was holding went blank and he glanced at it for a moment to rub in that the time had expired. "Boom. Your friends are dead."

Sara glanced away as Betton tossed the detonator aside as if it no longer mattered. She hoped that the timer had only been counting down and wasn't actually connected to the bomb downtown. If it was, then Catherine, Morgan, and Greg were dead, and so were the hundreds of people who lived in that apartment complex. She quickly reigned in her emotions so Betton wouldn't get the satisfaction of winning.

Grissom watched the detonator fall and then looked back at Betton. "I don't think so. You see, I know about bombs. I know about oceans, too. There's a great mammal in the ocean known as the 52-hertz whale. All year, he practices his love song for the female. Travels thousands of miles to find her. But when he finally gets the chance to serenade her, she doesn't give him a call back. Why? His love ballad is sung at fifty-two hertz, a sonic signature one note higher than the lowest sound of a tuba. The average female hears at ten to fifteen hertz. So she never hears his song. They call him the lonely whale. And year after year, for a hundred years, he works on a new love song and never, ever gets a call back. Eventually, he dies off, forever alone… heart breaking. But you've been calling out, too. You've been calling out for Lady Heather's love." Betton gasped and sobbed, but Grissom continued without a break, his voice soft. "But she's not calling back, is she? And the frightening part, for you, is… she never will."

Betton sobbed a little, fighting to control his emotions even though Grissom's story had been hitting so close to home, he had been unable to not relate. Grissom walked forward and Betton held out a hand to try and stop him. "Don't."

"You don't have all the power. Do you?" Grissom looked down at the trigger. "Go ahead. Pull it." Betton's thumb was in the handle, but he seemed frozen. Grissom reached down, brushed Betton's hand aside, and pulled the trigger himself. The handle came away from the vest, but the bomb didn't go off. Betton sobbed as Grissom slowly walked away.

Sara followed him across the rough terrain. "How did you know the bomb wasn't attached to the handle?"

"He loved Heather too much to end his life."

"But how did you know?"

Grissom looked at Betton as he was being handcuffed. "I didn't."

* * *

**Meanwhile…**

In the parking garage, Morgan grabbed Greg in a tight embrace and sobbed into his shoulder. "Oh, my God. Oh, my God." They were alive. They had cut the right wire at the last second and survived. Greg's entire body relaxed into her embrace. As steady as he had looked before they cut the wire, his relief that they had been successful was very evident now. He relaxed his grip slightly when he saw Catherine approach.

Catherine rubbed Morgan's back and then pulled the both of them into a hug. "Honey, it's okay, it's okay. We did it. We did it."

Morgan finally laughed and smiled. "Okay."

Catherine had a smile on her face too. "Good team."

"Yeah."

* * *

**A/N: I tried to find a good place to cut this chapter, but the way it was filmed for the episode made it very difficult. The next chapter is just as long and wraps up what I feel was a Sara and Grissom loose end. Stay tuned!**


	73. Chapter 73

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank phnxgrl, a Guest, and VegasGirl09 for their reviews. Guest: I agree, I think the whale story really was about both men. For Grissom it was his struggle to communicate and for Betton it was Lady Heather not responding to his love for her. VegasGirl09: It was hard to capture the tension in the garage scene, so I'm glad you liked it.**

**This chapter wraps up the final case from the show. It's a long chapter and is mostly from my mind. I'll admit that the ambiguity of the final scene left me with a lot of questions (Did Sara get the job and then run away with Grissom? Did they just go out to sea to talk? If Sara left, would Catherine have been the new Lab Supervisor?), so I've changed it a little. Hopefully it makes more sense now or at least seems to stay in line with the characters' personalities and my story. Enjoy!**

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Chapter 73

Russell was packing up to leave. The case was closed, his replacement was being chosen, and he had just finished his last day in this lab. He was going to miss this place, but a new opportunity waited for him in D.C. and he was excited about starting a new chapter in his life. He'd already said his goodbyes to everyone, in his own way. The only thing he had left to do was pack up what he was taking with him.

A knock on the glass made him look up. "Heading out?"

Russell looked at the books in his hands. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm… not one for big goodbyes- cakes, candles and hullabaloo." He put a few more things in the box.

Catherine walked into the office. "Well… I'm not one for goodbyes, either. Which is why I'd like to put my hat in the ring for that director position. I mean, if Sara doesn't take it."

Russell was surprised. "Really?" He came around and sat on the front of his desk.

Catherine nodded. "Yeah, I'm coming back home. Vegas is in my blood. I have my daughter, Lindsey. And just… so much of what my father left behind is here. Not to mention those two little girls who don't have anyone. All reasons to come back where I belong. Home. And you are heading east, yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah. Opportunity knocked. Never too late to start a new chapter, as they say." He tapped his hands against his knees and then stood up to finish packing.

"Nice. So…" Catherine looked around the office, "can I help you carry anything?"

"Uh, no, actually. I- I got it. Um…" He looked down at the box. "Everything that's in my mind and… and in my heart is right here in this box." He picked up the lid and put it on.

There was another knock on the door. "You're not really leaving without saying goodbye, are you?"

Russell looked up with a smile on his face. "Jules. You're back."

"For once, I will let that little slip of the tongue slide." She walked in with one hand in her back pocket and the other holding a gift bag. "My mom's doing a lot better, and I wanted to make sure I saw you before you went east, so I came back a couple days early. Here," she held out the gift bag.

"What's this?" He took the bag.

"A little parting gift. I know you don't like big goodbyes, but I wanted to get you a little something to make sure you didn't… you know, forget all of us here."

Russell opened the bag. "Oh, a picture of everyone. This is great!"

"Yeah. I didn't have a lot of time to get it taken. Nick wanted to be here, but he's pretty busy, so the best he could do was Skype. And Ibarra was feeling better, so he came in for a few minutes. You'll probably see him on your way out."

Catherine smiled. "I may have come in to stall you a little bit. Give Finn enough time to finish that up."

Russell smiled at the two women. "Thank you. Both of you." He opened the box and put the framed picture inside. "I promise, I won't forget you guys." He put the lid back on the box and looked up again.

The women both nodded at him and then Finn stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight. "Thank you, for everything."

* * *

Sara felt uncomfortable and proud at the same time. She was sitting in her wheelchair in front of half a dozen cameras holding up her new lab director credentials. She was happy that she had gotten the job, and she knew this was a part of that process, but with how little she enjoyed having her picture taken, she wanted to get this photo-op over with soon. Ecklie was standing nearby, encouraging her to smile and she kept the grin on, but she wasn't his biggest fan at the moment. When he had said they needed to take a few pictures for the papers, she had assumed that meant a dozen or two, not a few hundred.

He walked out from behind the cameras to stand next to her. "Okay, okay, one more, one more."

He straightened his suit coat and then shook her hand and held it for the pictures, both of them smiling at the cameras with a laugh. The flashbulbs kept blinking and Sara was sure she wouldn't be able to see soon. The reporters kept asking them to turn this way and then that way. It seemed that Ecklie was in his element right now, so Sara let him have this moment. After all, all she had to do was grin and hold up her credentials, right? Out the corner of her eye, she saw Grissom slowly walking down the hall to watch.

Ecklie waved at the reporters, putting an end to the photo-shoot. "Great, great. Thanks, guys." Sara turned to face him and he shook her hand again. "Congratulations, Sara."

"Thanks, Conrad."

He noticed Grissom and nodded to let her know she was done for the day. "Talk to you later."

Grissom started clapping as Sara rolled toward him and she chuckled. "Thank you. I never thought I'd see this day coming. But with D.B. out…"

"You deserve it. Vegas is lucky to have you."

"The oceans are lucky to have you." They looked at each other for a long moment, unsure of what to say. Sara had a funny thought and decided to share it. "Ironic, isn't it? I'm the one that always wanted to get out of Vegas, and you're the one who thought you would never leave."

Grissom nodded. "Yeah. Well… So..." He wanted to say something, ask about how she was doing now, bring up the conversation he had shelved earlier, but now that she'd just been given the directorship and seemed so happy, it seemed like a poor moment to do so.

Sara seemed to sense what he wanted and jumped in to give him an easy out. "I hope you find what you're looking for out there. Bye, Gil."

Grissom watched her roll past him, a pang in his heart. He still had so much to tell her, so many questions to ask, so much to say, but with her goodbye, the moment to talk had passed. Maybe they would get to talk in the future, or maybe this was the last time he'd see her, but the words he wanted to say would have to stay with him until he had a different chance. He headed back to PD. There was a different woman he needed to speak to now.

* * *

Heather signed the notepad and slid it to the officer. He picked it up and Grissom opened the door for him before looking at her. "That's it. We're done." Heather smiled at him, relief that it was all over evident in her face. "Thanks for your statement. The D.A. may ask you to testify, but that's entirely up to you."

She regained a little of her composure, but her smile was still plain to see. "Sure. Whatever helps." She bent down to grab her purse.

Grissom sat across from her. "Heather…" Dr. Kessler looked up at him in confusion. "Before I get back on my boat… I wanted to thank you."

"Thank me for what?"

Grissom took a few moments to carefully select his words. "When we first met, I- I… had a shell around my heart. I'd lost my belief in humanity. The only truth I… I knew was empirical science. I- I just wanted to thank you for… opening my heart. Through you, I learned to love someone."

Heather had been keeping a hopeful expression on her face, but when he mentioned learning to love someone, she realized what he was talking about. "Sara?" She kept smiling, but her eyes were now sad.

Grissom smiled and nodded. "She restores my faith in the human being. Plus… she helped me with my crossword puzzles. She's been my best friend." As Grissom continued to talk, Heather's expression continued to fall. As Grissom thought about Sara, his own expression fell. "I'll miss her. For the rest of my life." He looked up at Heather and gave a sad smile. Despite how well he knew her, he wasn't sure what the expression she was giving him meant.

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**Two days later...**

Sara was getting used to how empty her new office was. Gone were Grissom's brains and Russell's mushrooms. Her own decorations were not even decided on yet. Her "thing" had been her job, and what she had in her brain. Her home was evidence of that. She had things that were practical and functional. Her wheelchair had required her to be even more so. Finn had added some of her own touches to their home, but even that wasn't a reflection of Sara's personality.

She was still trying to figure out if she would be using an office chair in here. In the office she had shared with everyone, she'd had a structure over her desk so she could move her office chair, but that didn't seem to suit a lab director. Maybe she would use a simpler one that bolted to the floor. She looked through the folder for the bombing case and grabbed a pen to sign off on it when Catherine's daughter walked in.

"Hey, Sara, front desk asked for me to deliver this. It's the videotape of Lady Heather's final interview before Grissom released her."

_Not what I wanted to deal with during my first day as director_. "Oh, great." She laughed wryly. "Thanks, Lindsey." Sara tossed the tape on her desk and went back to the folder.

Lindsey stood looking at Sara awkwardly for a moment and then headed for the door before turning back. "I… watched the whole interrogation. Uh, I learned a lot. Especially the end." Sara's brow contracted in confusion for a moment until Lindsey continued. "You should watch it." She stood for a moment, looking like she was wanting to say something more, and then she turned and walked out.

Sara settled against the back of her wheelchair, mulling over what Lindsey had said. It seemed like she had been trying to say something else, but she had been scared of crossing a line. Sara was brand new in this position, but she had worked with Lindsey for a week now and didn't feel like she had been too hard on the girl. Maybe it was Sara's paralysis that was making her uncomfortable, but that hadn't been what she was scared of just now.

Sara looked at the envelope and sighed. She picked it up and turned the envelope in her hand. This was supposed to be Heather's final statement regarding the bombings and the suspect, Dalton Betton. What was on this tape shouldn't really be that educational. Lindsey would learn some things about interrogation techniques, sure, but what could be so important about the end? She was going to have to watch the video now.

Sara took the video into the A/V room and popped it in the player. The interview went exactly as Sara had expected it would. Heather was asked and answered questions. Grissom went through everything the way he knew how, acting like he hadn't left the lab at all. Then Heather wrote everything down on a notepad, taking up several pages. Sara fast forwarded through that, hitting play when Heather signed the last page. Watching this last little bit, when Grissom had forgotten to turn off the camera, made her realize what Lindsey was referring to.

Grissom had told Heather what he'd been unable to say to her face. He still loved her. He hadn't divorced her because he'd fallen out of love. The divorce had been because he loved her so much, he had been unable to let her go through her life without him there, and he'd known that he wouldn't be there the way she needed him to be. Sara needed to talk to him. His trespassing charge had been waiting for him in San Diego, so he hadn't left yet, but she didn't have much time before he would. She called Ecklie. A couple days off was all she needed.

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A flight to San Diego and a cab ride to the docks later, Sara rolled down the gangway toward the slip for Grissom's boat. Grissom had been released, probably because his trespassing had caught two poachers, and he was prepping his boat for departure. She'd arrived just in time. He was in the process of pulling in the buoys when he caught sight of her approaching. She smiled and stopped next to his boat. He just stared at her in surprise.

Sara engaged the brakes on her chair. "I'd ask for permission of come aboard, but, uh… this wheelchair makes that a little awkward."

Grissom threw a buoy back out and then tied off again. "I could carry you, if you wanted."

"Are you sure? I- I don't want to make this more uncomfortable than it already is."

"I don't mind."

She smiled again. "Okay."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and he lifted her from the wheelchair. When she was comfortably sitting on the transition from the stern deck and fore deck, he grabbed her chair and brought it on board too. "I was going to head back out to sea, but with you here… I think maybe we should just go out a ways and… talk."

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea."

Grissom went up top to the controls and piloted the boat out into the deep water. Sara turned her body to lean against the cabin so she could watch as he took them out. She could see what Grissom found appealing about this life. There was a romance about living at sea. How he had transitioned from studying bugs in far off places to traveling around the world on a boat to stop poaching was a mystery, but she wasn't concerned with the why.

Eventually they were several miles offshore and Grissom idled the boat. "Let's go inside."

Sara shivered in the cold sea air. "Sounds good."

Grissom opened the door to the cabin and held out his arms to her. "It's a bit of a mess, but there are seats and they're warm."

Sara accepted his help and he set her down on the best seat. "I have a few things to say, but I get the feeling that you had a few things to ask me."

"I did." He looked at her for a long moment. "Did you want to go first, or should I?"

"You."

"Okay." He paused. "I know you told me how you became paralyzed, but I had a few questions about it. Why did you wait two years to tell me?"

Sara looked down at her hands. "The divorce… it hurt me… a lot. When I was shot, I didn't want you racing back here and making everything feel worse. I was already looking at a lot of changes happening in my life. We weren't talking, you were off doing your thing. It was just easier to leave that conversation for another time. As the months passed, I just decided to leave the part of my life with you in it behind me and focus on getting my independence back."

"How has that been? Getting your independence back, I mean."

"Hard. I've never had to go through something that hard before in my life. Recovering from Natalie Davis' attack was much easier by comparison."

Grissom looked down. "I'm sorry I hurt you. When I sent you the divorce papers, I should have talked to you about it. I should have told you what I was thinking and why it was happening. It wasn't right to do that to you the way I did. I'm sorry."

"I know."

"You do?"

Sara nodded. "I, uh, watched Heather's final statement. You forgot to turn off the camera before you let her go. That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Now I know how you feel, and I needed to tell you that I still love you, so… I wanted to figure out where we stand."

"I want to be a part of your life."

"And I want you to be a part of mine, but… if we try again… things need to change."

Grissom nodded. "Yes, they do."

"I would need you to stay in touch better. No more of the months between calls. From what I heard, you stayed in better contact with Heather than you did with me."

"Only after we were divorced. I felt that contacting you would be painful for you. I didn't want to rub it in. Heather, in a lot of ways, became my therapist at that point."

Sara nodded. "Okay. I also need you to understand that I will be staying in Vegas. I'm the lab director now. I have a responsibility to be there. And part of that responsibility will be to focus on the cases I'm working and supervising while I'm at work. Calling me and not getting a response while I'm at work will be normal. I'll need you to understand that."

"I do. That's one of the things I always admired about you. You were always so dedicated to your job. I'll try to remember that."

"Good. And… I know I'll have to make sure that if you do call while I'm at work or asleep, that I call you back and check in. That's only fair."

"I would appreciate that." Grissom smiled. "I've missed you, Sara."

"I've missed you, too."

"So, what's on your agenda tomorrow?"

Sara leaned back in the chair. "I was going to drop in on Nick and say hi. He's the lab director in San Diego now."

"I know. He was in the D.A.'s office when they were figuring out what to do with me. Evidence on the poachers' boat suggested that they were involved in a massive poaching ring. According to Nick, my trespassing may have helped start the case that brings the ring down. That's why they let me go."

Sara grinned. "Anyway, I was going to see how he's doing there and then head home."

"And I'm headed back out to sea in the morning." He looked at her for a long time. "I'm proud of you."

Sara looked confused. "For what?"

"Not letting this, your paralysis, define you. So many people in our… well, your… line of work who suffer an injury like this let it tear them down. You've taken the cards you were dealt and risen to become the lab director of the Las Vegas Crime Lab. I'm proud of you."

Sara smiled. "Thank you."

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**A/N: And that's it for the adaptations of the show. I'm going to be taking a small hiatus from posting this story while I work out where I want the story to go from here. I may end up starting a part two instead of adding onto this one. Either way, I'll let you know when I know. Thanks for sticking with me and leaving reviews along the way. I can't put into words how much that means to me. Stay tuned!**


	74. Epilogue

**Author's Note: I hadn't realized that I hadn't marked this story complete yet, so I've decided to write an epilogue to wrap everything up. Thank you all for reading this story and leaving your comments. A special thanks to phnxgrl, VegasGirl09, The Bickering Kingdom, and a Guest for their reviews on the last chapter. Guest:** Grissom and Sara wouldn't be able to date in secret after the way the last case ended. The lab knows about her trip to San Diego so she could see him, so it wouldn't make sense for them to try and date secretly again. I do think that this time around their relationship would work out and he would eventually return to Vegas. **The Bickering Kingdom:** There will not be a part 2 for this story. As much as I wanted to be able to continue the story, I unfortunately had no solid plan to continue. If I did continue the story, I would find a way to bring D.B. back though. **VegasGirl09:** Thank you so much for sticking with this story for so long. As for Finn, you are very welcome. Putting her in future stories may be tough, but I'll keep your request in mind. **phnxgrl:** Thank you so much for sticking with all my stories as well. After six months of wracking my brains, I have to conclude that this is the right place to end the story. Keep reading and leaving comments because they do mean a lot to me. **Enjoy the epilogue.**

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"Sara was just finishing up with the paperwork that had piled up in her absence when a knock sounded on her door. "Come in."

"Hey, Sara."

"Catherine." Sara looked up and smiled. "You're back."

"Yep. Just made everything official. What you working on?"

"Paperwork." Sara signed off on the report. "I didn't realize that two vacation days would put me a week behind on everything."

Catherine settled into the couch. "D.B. left this for you. I like it. Makes things a little more… homey than Grissom's office was. Speaking of, how is Grissom?"

"He's good. We're trying to make things work this time around." Her phone buzzed. "It's dispatch. Are you sworn back in yet?"

"Did that twenty minutes ago. What's the crime scene?"

"Two D.O.A.s at a WLVU sorority house. Grab Lindsey and Morgan. We're taking it."

"You got it, boss." Sara chuckled is Catherine stood. "What's so funny?"

"I'm going to have to get used to being called boss."

* * *

The sorority house for Psi Beta Tau was surrounded by college students filming the police activity with their phones. Sara felt a little self-conscious as she exited her vehicle. Several students snapped pictures of her on her way to the side-gate where Crawford was waiting for them. She held her head high and ignored the onlookers. There was no reason to let them know she was uncomfortable with the stares.

Crawford smiled as she reached him. "I think congratulations are in order."

"Thanks. What do we got?"

"Two victims. Female victim's name is Leslie Adams. She's a member of this house. Male victim is still unknown. I'll let David fill you in. Welcome back, Catherine."

Catherine smiled. "Thanks."

Sara rolled into the backyard and spotted the assistant coroner. "Hey, Super Dave."

"Hey, Sara. Meet James Hardie. His wallet was with his towel over there." He looked up and saw Catherine. "Hey, stranger. Long time no see."

"Good to see you, David." Catherine set down her kit. "Cause of death?"

"Probably blunt force trauma for him. But it could be drowning. He was at the bottom of the pool when I got here. There is water in his lungs, but he's covered in bruises. I'll let Doc make the official call."

Sara took out her camera. "What about Leslie Adams?"

"She was floating in the pool, but she didn't drown. Her neck was broken." David handed his camera to Catherine. "I took the overalls when I got here so they could be fished out."

"Great." Catherine handed the camera back as Lindsay and Morgan arrived. "I'm going to get started with processing the interior."

Morgan raised a hand. "I'll go with you."

Lindsey set down her kit. "I'll get started on the perimeter?"

Sara nodded. "Great. Let's get to work."

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**A/N: Thanks again for all the views and reviews. Hope to hear from you all on other stories I write. Thank you!**


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